It happens to the best of us, doesn't it??
We go through the day and even with the horoscope telling you to keep an eye out for love or fortune or a promotion, you are slapped in the face numerous times with the notion that something is just not right. In fact others are noticing.
Have you ever had someone start chit chatting about how the paperwork is in tremendous amounts and end up telling you that volunteer work might be a good way to break the rut you seem to be in? Or been filling up a glass of water in the office kitchenette and been asked if your sleeping ok? Or been told by the repeating chatterbox that comes to lean on the doorway of your cube to talk to Miss Nasal Hummer that she hasn't seen you smile today and that she wasn't gonna go back to her side of the maze until she got one out of you??
Its days like this when the abnormal becomes quite acceptable. Like making that phone call to the guy who won't return your emails with genuine concern (because he was such a decent guy he wouldn't just not even respond - not even with a F*CK OFF AND LEAVE ME THE F*CK ALONE) and realize later that evening that he will hear the message as a cry from a desperate, lonely, manipulative chick (just like he labeled you) and think its a way to make me call him on a Friday night so I can squeeze into whatever plans he has for the weekend? Or the lunch break when $12 for sushi sounds pretty reasonable considering you didn't get the big platter and therefore have some change from that $20 bill??
It is on these days, however, that there is just enough of the normal person-to-person nicetys stripped away so as to allow you to not give a naked bald cats ass about if the b#tch hasn't seen you smile or what the gigglemonster thinks would be a great volunteer job to do on a random Saturday. You also couldn't puke about what the shaved rams balls that cowardly black lister thinks of you to the point of finding out he isn't hanging off a barbed wire fence and has offered his services to the barely of age (and apparently taken) fellow onliner yesterday and email him that your glad he isn't sewing fingers back on at the hospital and are so disappointed that even a guy who will do a gig for his psuedo competition won't even own up and respect a Girl of the Month enough to text her a proper "I mean it - go away"? And just enough 'I am Conquerer of my Own Destiny' to wear tennies and jeans to work for the third day straight and leave a message on a wayward family members old school answering machine about what you really think of how she tricked you into paying off her bad debt and not think for the flap of a fairy's wings about what her roomies will think - and be snappy as a fly trap to the credit beareu chick who asked for what I meant and talked over me the entire explanation. "Listen to me - I was told I was keeping this account from going to collections - you ARE collections, I KNOW THAT - and since it is my checking account paying for her lameness on my dads SSN, I'm telling you that I resind my authorization for the next payment and any other subsequent payments on this account... now, can you do that for me or are you going to get your manager who understands what resind means?" I actually said this one.
Its just wonderful that the tides can ebb and flow and the winds can whip up a tiny tornado of pine needles and its just enough of a bite of chill in the air to require a coat with pockets for walking comfort on a day when the particular alignment of hormones and neurotransmitters in my body allow me to do what I normally only accomplish after three drinks in a bar - and always wish I could do during normal business hours.