Man, am I exhausted. My new job is a little stressful, and I'm feelin the wear. (in the form of a partially-formed ulcer burning in my gut.) It's not that I dislike the work, it's just that I'm not accustomed to feeling this sort of "do or die" stress in my day to day life. I'm not sure I like it. But one thing is certain: I need the job. And it's a new form of work for me, sales. It's low pressure for the customer, but the whole idea that my paycheck depends on my success/luck is gonna take a little getting used to.
James and I "pimped our chalices" last night. Or, we "pimped our chali-cees" as was decided it should be pronounced properly. It was a lot of fun. I still have super glue under my fingernails, and James has some minor burns from the so-called "low temp" glue gun.
James' chalice didn't make it through the night, unfortunately, given it had already cracked at the base and had been re-glued, and I believe after a few beers graced its gilded form, and jewels began to kamikaze their way to the ground, he flung it across the deck. Oh well, you can't save them all. My chalice, however was bling-a-rific, and super-sweet. Who knew how much fun pimping cups could be? Now we have to come up with some other crafty things to bling. I have so far suggested to Buffy that perhaps we could pimp MY ASS. It's just so plain-- I mean, it's sexy as hell, but it really could use a little sumpin'. Maybe next Wednesday.