indecent disclosure

this one has been on the back burner all weekend because i'd much rather hang out with dominique than be on the computer. the weekend was fabulous, by the way.

i applied for a job at one of the clinics run by my law school for the summer. there were only 4 spots, and many applicants, so i knew my chances of getting one of the spots was not good. i didn't get a spot, but this is not what bothered me.

first, the applications were due march 24, and applicants were told it would be a week, 2 maximum, before we heard anything. we found out at the end of last week. ok, 3 weeks, not a huge deal.

the huge deal is the way in which we were notified. the professor who is running the clinic opted for the ever-professional mass email. this of course means that every applicant's email address and name were clearly visible. classy. so everyone knows who did and did not get offered a spot. thanks.

but really, an email? we're fucking law students. i spent my fucking time writing a cover letter to submit, so i think the least the professor could have done was write a goddamn form letter. and with mail merge and shit like that, how long does it take to put the names on each one? 5 minutes? and it's not like you need to spend precious law school money on postage, as all students have folders in the mail room. furthermore, ms. professor, you dont even have to get off your fat fucking ass (literally, in this case) and put them in the folders yourself, as the nice people in the mail room will do it for you if you just drop the stack off. in conclusion, fuck you.


and speaking of fat asses, i went to the grocery store today. all lines being equal, i choose a cashier who also has a bag person in their line. i'm not incapable, but i prefer to not bag when given the option. this is why it bothers me when baggers arbitrarily switch lines. what the hell is that? are you too a.d.d. to bag for 1 cashier the whole time? take a fuckin ritalin.

today, a bagger switched on me. he went to the next line over. my guess is he switched because he saw me, a 25 year old male in his line, and a mid 40s fat woman in the next line, and figured i'd have an easier time bagging my own shit without sweating profusely.

but there should be a rule that fat people get less help, not more. listen, rolly mcdoughnut, your problem is only "glandular" up to a deuce or deuce and a half. after that, you just eat too much shit. and contrary to your thoughts, lifting food to your face is not exercise, unless by "tones my arms" you mean lets gravity take hold. just because bagging her own groceries would be the most exercise she got in the last 2 years doesn't mean you should do it. help people by teaching them how to help themselves.

and most of all, bag my fucking groceries.