The Little Things

Riddle me this - even as a receptionist I don't get it - if you say you're out for a lunch break, then have to get a call an hour and a half later to remember to report that its a lunch meeting with collogues, and THEN decide when you are in the lobby of the building getting on the elevator that 2.5 hours after you leave the office is the PERFECT time to call and check in with your ETA. WTF!!!! After 3 calls to her cell and a call from the collogue letting us know she's on her way FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PARKING LOT, the ONLY time she could manage to tell us in the 4 hours before this meeting to tell us she'd be out the entire middle of the day is in the 45 seconds before she walks through the door???!?!?!!?

I'm just pissy because the saintly Auntie that took my sister in during her time of need is being a big bloated alcoholic jerk. I called the house looking for Sissy and she took the opportunity to say "if you don't want to look at someones picture, take it down instead of flipping it over so it doens't hurt anyones feelings". Yeah, after you knew Sissy was living with you and "cleaned the room for her", somehow the picture of you in your bra and panties straddling a champagne bottle didn't make it off the only mirror in the room and out of politeness she feverishly added a number of her own pics to drown out your naked ass staring at her whenever she put makeup on and THREE MONTHS LATER I come to visit and don't need your milky thighs staring ME down as I put my makeup on so I preserve the pic and its obviously ONLY location available in the house (because HER bedroom mirrorSSSSS or HER private half bath mirror are WAY out of the question) instead of letting it fall into the oblivion that is Sissy's stuff or ::gasp:: put it in her room to be trampled by the cats or lost on HER terrain of terror... its all my fault that your fat ass needs "an inspiration picture" for you and your fiance in Sissy's bedroom and somehow my turning it over meant I hate you.
So your doc told you beer is eating your insides so that stomach pain you have is your juices leaking to the rest of your organs. So you have to switch to vodka even though you vowed to never drink hard alcohol again because you turn into a raging bitch and then pass out EVERY TIME but you HAVE to drink so you buy Ketel One on your just-lost-my-part-time-temp-job and am living off of haircuts budget. That does NOT mean you have the right to bitch me out for your nuddie pics being turned over in MY SISTERS BEDROOM on my lunch break!!!

Thank You MOT for inspiring that valve release =)

Also on the list of why the hell am I thinking about this stuff: I read an article this weekend about how "serial tanners" that we all thought were so full of themselves and HAD to spend 10 hours a week in the tanning beds are actually junkies. They replaced the bulbs in the beds so a group of these SoCallyFryBabes were only getting 10 minutes of UV rays and the other 10 minutes were just warming lights. They actually started withdrawl symptoms - twitching and all ya'll!!!!
I read this article as I untied the back of my bikini top and gave myself a wedgie to get as little of an untanned area as possible with the roomies mom and grandma walking about the kitchen (exactly 30 feet and a full wall of glass slider door away). It reminded my why I always feel so refreshed after a weekend of doing NADA, NUT'n, Zip, Zilch, bumpkis - its the happy neurotransmitter release that floods me after as little as 20 minutes twice a week (exactly what my weekend agenda ALWAYS includes!!).

Yeah, and... if I was in the office until midnight on Friday night, but I was on the phone for like 3 hours of it, and I got some work done but not 6 hours worth, but no one in the office has anything to do with any of the work was done, how exactly do I mark my timesheet for that?

Oh, and someone please get all Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind on my ass and find that part of the brain that makes someone IRRESISTABLE to obsess about once they are totally and unequivicably unavailable. Its like a sickness to have my heart jump when the little "you have mail" envelope pops up to get Really disappointed to check it and see its not Mr. Techie but some actual work related crap.

Right. I should be working. Today is the "no matter what you get overtime this week" day and my morning meeting that should take no more than 45 minutes ran soooooo late that I had to call my higher up and say I WASN'T an hour late to work this morning, I was in a meeting since an hour BEFORE I usually get to work and STILL didn't manage to get my ONE 4 minute project done on time. So the way I see it, my afternoon of lollygagg'n isn't a total waste since I did get my butt in high gear after being held hostage all morning. And with all the work I probably won't add to a timecard, I'm just break'n even. Yeah, thats it. And maybe this week I'll get downstairs and into my comfy gym clothes and finish the projects that Somehow ::whistle:: :: kick my foot:: ::hands behind back:: don't get done in the 41.5 regulated hours per week. Hmmm...

I wish I could link faster, or I'd have some cool stuff. I can't really save anything to this computer or I would!! Maybe if you comment with a real address to reply to, I can forward you the link in the email that got this whole post started. Note worthy, I promise.

A tut alure ya'll, I've gotta another email to get excited about and then be disappointed that they want me to work about!