Something in the office smells like bologna (or ‘baloney,’ if you’re one of the people who spells it as it sounds), probably my favourite lunch meat ever, which is affecting my gut. I’m so hungry! Ack. I could take lunch now, but that wouldn’t make an even split in the workday. Must … hold … off … just … a … little … longer …

The lady who works nearest to me - I’ll call her ‘Alice’ because she reminds me of that character from The L Word - let me know today that all was not as simple as it looks. That is to say, I mentioned that I was going to sign up for the 8-day insurance course that is occuring the week of the 24th of July, and her jaw dropped. “That’s not enough time for you to prepare for it!” she exclaimed. Personally, I’m appalled. Sixty-four hours straight of studying seems like overkill for any test, really. But the way she put it, it’s “extremely intense, and the test is really tricky. They’ll try to get you on a lot of the questions, and the material is not going to be stuff you’ve seen before.”

The question is, how am I meant to get this done - pre-studying and all - before my four months are up? The answer: it ain’t gonna happen. Let’s hope Big Boss Man doesn’t notice this. I’m getting it all done as quickly as I can, but you don’t realize how much stuff there is to do and how much information there is to take in (interesting though it may be) until you’ve been here awhile.

I read in a Yahoo! Health blog today that the human brain loses its attention span six to eight times every minute. Crazy, innit? But it makes sense for me. I’ve been getting more bored/distracted/otherwise occupied so frequently lately, it’s not even funny.

Props to Alice, though. If she hadn’t told me about the insurance program, I assume I would have gone to the late-July course grossly unprepared. For a training program, those in charge aren’t doing much ‘training’ at all. Maybe it’s a ploy to get us all used to working independently, but let’s be honest, the Firm and its business is a complex thing, and a little guidance would be helpful! As is, it comes as no shock to me that no one is left out of the last fifty-two trainees, as stated by a friendly neighbourhood informant. Little is being done to keep up the morale of the trainees, I’ll tell you that. And it frustrates me to death.

Today’s lunch break will be dedicated to getting in contact with my insurance company in an effort to figure out exactly what the deal’s going to be with my now-defunct vehicle.

The cops found my car, still running, a block from my house. The cop who ‘interviewed’ me (read: photocopied my driver’s license) said that it had been “stripped,” but didn’t elaborate. So I called up the inpound lot where my car is resting now, and apparently I can’t even go and look at the car until charges have been paid to the tow company. *grumbles* The lady on the phone then said to me, “Well, we’re not supposed to tell you what’s on the report, but …” and then proceeded to say that my baby is “heavily damaged, with broken windows,” “all electronic equipment has been removed” (bye, bye XM Radio), “seats have been stripped from the vehicle,” and so on, and thereforth. Anyway. I need to have the insurance guys take a wander down there and check out the situation. Pain in my ass.

On the upside, Big Boss Man was very understanding. However, I’ve now been informed that the insurance exam that I’m meant to take pretty soon requires a week-long class after some self-study time. The nearest location for this that I’ve found is over in Edison, NJ, which isn’t bad at all. I guess it’ll be okay. Need to get my act in gear and sign up for a course, though. I’ve only got so much time left!

Ooh. Meg and I finally got to see Imagine Me & You last night, the film with Piper Perabo that we’ve been dying to see forever. And it was completely worth the wait. That was the cutest romantic film I’ve seen in a really, really long time, and I highly recommend it if you’re in the mood for one of those ‘I’m going to eat junk food and give myself a facial’ kind of evenings.

Well, I didn’t pass. And it’s not so much the embarassment of walking into work this morning and having people automatically blurt out, “Congratulations!” before I’ve had a chance to say anything, but rather the fact that I’m just pissed off at myself that’s the problem. It’s amazing how a little screw-up like this - because, let’s face it, nothing was really riding on this test, not like the Series 7 - can make me want to pack up and ship off back to my mom’s house in Virginia. Gah. I hate this self-pity bullshit, but I can’t help it sometimes. It frustrates me. But anyway, Big Boss Man just wandered by and asked me what happened. “I choked,” I said, “but rest assured I will get it done in the next week or so.” He looked at me gravely. “You know you only have two attempts.” I nodded. “Just two. Two.” I nodded again. And then he said, “Don’t do this to me,” kind of helplessly as he strode off. I guess he’s frustrated as well because of the extremely high fail rate of trainees in this branch of the Firm. I would be. Oh my god. Now I’m going to be freaking out about this test. The pressure again! Ah!

To top it off, I really think my car is about to die. My dad emailed me the other day and said that one of the problems - the humming when the car is in reverse - is the result of some kind of belt that he’s had to replace before … at “a couple hundred bucks a pop.” *sighs* Just what I need. At least I managed to find a decent dress this weekend for my mom’s wedding, $69 on sale. Not bad.

I just need to stop being so materialistic. Just because I don’t have ‘the next cool thing’ doesn’t mean I’m lacking in any way. It is written in The Millionaire Next Door that “most people have it all wrong about wealth in America. Wealth is not the same as income. If you make a good income each year and spend it all you are not getting wealthier. You are just living high. Wealth is what you accumulate, not what you spend.” And I want to be wealthy one day. I must begin to start living, as Dawn of Frugal for Life puts it, “below [my] means” and “seeing treasure in items with as much as you can imagine using [my] creativity.” So I don’t have that awesome iPod dock/speaker set that Chris has. I’ve got fifteen dollar computer speakers that work just as well for the size of my room, and it cost me almost three hundred dollars less. That’s not to say that I won’t buy myself that toy one day … but I have to really work for it.

Ugh. I just want to go to bed and stay there for a couple of weeks. Make it late July, and I’ll be a happy camper.

On an unrelated tangent, Chris and her brother had a party on Friday night at their house in celebration of the fact that their parents were down in Atlantic City. To be honest, initially I wasn’t up for a party, but I hadn’t seen Chris in what felt like a really long time, so I agreed to make an appearance. Meg was still kind of suffering from her stomach thing and, though she insisted I go to Chris’s party without her, got into a bit of a pissy mood when I agreed to it. Whoops. Ultimately, though, she called me over to her house and jumped into my car. It turned out to be a gorgeous evening, not too hot and not too many bugs, with a bunch of twenty-somethings shooting the breeze, playing beer pong, and basically just hanging out. I got a bit drunk somewhere in there, but it soon passed with the drinking of a can of Red Bull, and even managed to hold my own somewhat in beer pong. Amazing. It had been awhile since I’d be sociable, and this felt really, really good. And as an added bonus: no hangover! Woot!

Also … ladies (and gents who love the women in their life), if you have a moment, take a look at this video. I must admit that I usually don’t pay very much attention to breast cancer stuff, but this report about IBC, which was sent to me via the Firm’s office manager, was pretty shocking. Like many in the video, I’d never heard of it, or if I had (which is possible, given that I have the memory of a goldfish), I didn’t know any of the details. The fact that such a disease killed a 16-year-old who was, as they put it, “too embarrassed to tell her mother that her breasts looked weird,” is a scary enough thought as it is. Just take a look. It could be worth your while.

I’m the only one left! I mean, wow, I passed, go me, but I was hoping that at least one of the other trainees in my group with get through. Unfortunately, this does not seem to be the case. I knew the test was freakishly hard; Ranjith had been getting steady upper-80s and low-90s on the practice tests, like me, and I just squeezed by in the real thing. I feel bad for the guy; he took the exam once before, some time ago, and got a 69, one point below the pass mark. I can only hope he didn’t get another 69. I’ll bet he was gutted regardless.

I experienced my first Pride on Sunday, after being disappointed on Saturday by the fact that the lead singer of Snow Patrol had laryngitis or something and postponed the NYC show until June 27th. But … Pride was awesome.

En route, Meg and I picked up Chris, stopping briefly to pay $5 for three plastic cups of Crystal Light lemonade - it made the two girls manning the lemonade stand very happy, I think, and it made me happy too until Meg said something to make me laugh and I snorted it inadvertently.

Upon reaching Asbury Park, the three of us wasted some time with a couple of beers at the Wonder Bar before venturing into the fenced-off area across the street, which was crammed with people. We wandered around for ages before finding a sweet spot right next to the stage, from which we had a perfect view of the main attraction that day: the Village People! I know you’re excited. While Meg and I danced on a cooler to “Macho Man,” we sucked down jello shots and cheap beer, enjoying the company of friends and the cool, spring-like weather. Of course, given my habit of having absolutely classic timing, I got to enjoy “YMCA” from the comfort of a porta-loo, much to my chagrin. Gradually the crowd began to dissipate, so Meg, Chris, and I tossed a football around - one throw smashed me in the left boob, and it still feels tender. Ouch. We grabbed a couple of kebabs - meat popsicles, mmmm - and wandered back to the hotel to chill for awhile before heading to the club that night.

The next day we took a walk on the beach, and didn’t manage to get home until six-thirty or so that evening. Later, Meg and I watched a bit of The Mask of Zorro before falling asleep. On my part, it was a restless sleep. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but even with the AC on, I kept overheating and getting myself into uncomfortable positions. Bizarre.

This day is slooooooow.