Today, I get to be a grown-up.

I'm opening a bank account.

Yeah, I know. I'm a late-bloomer and all that stuff. Most everyone I know has had some form of checking/savings account since they were sixteen or seventeen. I, on the other hand, preferred to keep all my money in a Pringles can. It was so much easier that way, you know?

But, alas, I need to start doing that adult shit and learn to trust a banking institution w/my meager funds. I also now have a job where the majority of my money comes from a check and not the tip jar. One of the few good things about waitressing...instant gratification.

I also want to get a credit card thing so I can satisfy my lip gloss addiction via The Internet.

God, this is boring me just by writing about it.

Anyway.

The two Rudest People Ever can into the library on Saturday. And they're married. My god, I hope karma shoves its foot up both of their asses. Repeatedly. Telling the story would require many library terms and subsequent explanations of, which would probably turn the story into a long and boring piece of drivel, so just take my word for it, OK?

Rudest. People. Ever.

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