Job! Need a job!

It becomes exhausting to have to explain over and over and over exactly what it is that I want to do with this law degree and then explain over and over and over exactly why it is that I don't have a job in which to do what I want to do with this law degree. Everyone at my dad's uncle's anniversary open house thinks it's wonderfully amazingly fantastic that I just graduated from law school. But then they want to know what I'm going to DO. As the open house went on, I drowned my growing despair about having no idea what I'm going to do in two pieces of cake and some ice cream. Also some pink punch with sherbet on top. The problem was that I didn't even like the cake, but I finished both pieces. It's very unfortunate to be eating a piece of cake and thinking, "This cake is not that great. Why am I eating it?" and then keep eating it. I felt sort of sick after all that cake in lieu of lunch.

The kids across the street are shooting off fireworks, but they don't appear to be very good at aiming them, with the result that they tend to explode on our front sidewalk. If they kill the flowers my mom and I just planted along the sidewalk with tender loving care and rich new dirt from the bottom of the compost pile, I will have to march over there myself and be the angry adult. (Me! The angry adult! It's like a bad joke.)

I paper-cut the tip of my index finger. The sensation as I type feels alarmingly like the numbness of my pinky when the golf elbow is acting up. Strange.

I can't really think of another nice wrap-it-up thing to end this. It's going to have to dangle.