diagnosis

So according to online, I have occupational dermatitis. Meaning I've become allergic to lemons from constantly working with them. Great. That's the least annoying and most tip-friendly place to work at BP. This stupid rash woke me up at 4:30, kept me up till 5:15, then woke me up a couple times around 6-7am. Luckily I called Linda and got Mark to work for me. I felt bad, but whatever, I went in when he cut (barely) his finger. I don't want customers to get grossed out by being handed a pretzel from someone who has red splotches on her forearm and a dried out, cracked finger. UGH. This shit better calm down by Monday. I'm trying to get out of work tomorrow too.

Good news is, I got my passport this morning. I could not look more like a migrant worker if I tried. Just goes to show it's always better to smile. A weak attempt at a smile when I'm honestly pissed off just results in the migrant feel coming through times a thousand. At least I look like a humble field worker.

The boat cruise. Already feels like it was a week ago but no, it was just last night. Good fun! Good dancing, good people, good vibes. On the bus ride over to the boat the radio was playing Bob Marley. You know it's going to be a good night when Bob's involved. Even when we got home at 2-whatever, after going to a lame after-party on Highgate St in Allston, I still felt a little like my equilibrium was off. It was similar to that post-ocean waves feeling. Coulda just been the $5 Buddy L's. They were CANS! Goddamn!

Tonight, we take on the Casbah for the last time ever. Are you in, or are you out? ;)