Wednesday, December 21, 2005

I Swear, Mr. Murphy...

I decide what to do with all my free time at work just as there is Work to do.

I notice my entire department isn't ever HERE between 8:30 and 10am, so I don't kill myself trying to mascara and lip gloss myself on the way to work when I wake up late - just in time for the "lets be good girls and get our bonuses" sweep when they are all at their desks and ready to dump on the temp promptly at 8:58am.

I have realized that there are certain things in life that I can not control just as I am asked to take complete responsibility for my life and everything in it.

Of the six office gifts I have recieved thus far, five bought by girls (candles/candlescapes/candle sets, two holiday hand towels, Santa salt and pepper shakers) and the one from a guy, an hour ago; Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate with Mint Center squares... the day after I vow not to dip into the holiday treats in an effort to make the workouts show by New Years.

For the last three and a half days I have been more than modestly prepared for the end of PMS and the visit of Aunt Flo only for her to decide to show up TEN MINUTES after I was asked out on a date. For tonight.

F*ck Murphy's Laws. Its C*ck Bloging Wednesday and all the pics are driving me nuts (agh, I couldn't help it) and I even have dick available to me in about three hours and damn it if I'm not huddled in pain or in an ibuprofin stupor by then. Not to mention already stuffed.
F*ck. F*ck. F*ck.

Happy Anniversary Mom; Cheers to you and your grace in your dance with Mr. Murphy.

::weep softly::

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