Mine started early - I went to tell my boss I was leaving for lunch, asked if it would be the WORST thing if I didn't come back, and she said "if your sick, your sick, we'll cover the phones, go ahead."
I run some errands before I head home... I can't get through the voice mail prompts at the car loan bank so I drive up the road to the super fucked up parking lot and wait in the 13 person line and finally get asked up to the counter and I tell the guy "I have 2 things today - one I need to change my address you have on file (he says he can't do that - gives me the number to the VOICE MAIL JAIL!!!!), and two I need you to pull up my account and see exactly, to the penny, what I owe on my car loan so I can write you the PERFECT check right here and now and get my pink slip in my stocking."
He was more thrilled than I was - I was calmly writing my check, getting all the I's dotted and T's crossed and he was over there telling his manager "man, she is paying this off RIGHT NOW!! I remember when I paid my car off, it was such a relief, and here she is on her lunch break just getting it done! New year without a car payment, how good does THAT FEEL!!!"
Right, so I get him a qualude and get my stupid phone number (that I can NOT get through to find a person or extention that can help me with this fucking address change!!! Another trip to that place and a planted ass with the New Accounts Bitch who HAS access to the internal workings of accounts so my Pink Slip goes to MY house, not my EX house).
Alright, so after all that excitement of standing in line and draining my checking account only to worry about where my SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE peice of paper will go...
Traffic to get on the freeway, construction on my offramp with no notice so that was a nice 15 minutes waiting in line to get to the other parking lot - my street that they were actually working on and blocked the turn lane off the freeway to get the conjestion more organized.
Whatever, I'm not too pissed, cuz I don't have a timeline anymore, I'm sick and taking the afternoon off.
Right, so I get in the house, tell my super thrilled pupster to relax before she squeels her eyeballs out and twitches her tail off, leave a trail of discarded clothing on the steps as I change into something more tolerable, trip on the whole lot of it as I gracefully tumble back down to find some chow, then distract the pups with some edible nonsense so I could take my tennies to the beach before the chill of dusk set in.
Yep, brought my phone. Yep, got death threats for sending live action shots of what I was looking at on a Friday afternoon to a snowed in chilled sicky (Sorry Stace, it just had to be done). Told Dad of the promotion, got a "oh, are we happy about that?" before the "did your sister tell you that your 82 year old grandma that you were named after is back in the hospital this week? yeah, so if this turns south you guys might think about coming back up, but I didn't want it to be too much of a surprise, so, ok, well, I've got the prime rib cooking for the party we have in 3 hours so thanks for calling."
No comments on the fuckhead of a pops I've got. I KNOW. I. Fucking. Know.
Something about having a rocky family foundation and every guy I date having shitty dads or relationships with their dads or needing to be their dad complexes (I've cared hard for 2, thats TWO, Juniors)... well, I'm solidifying my lack of need for men in my life because somehow the backstabbing PMSing overly dramatic romantic comedy turned slaughter house thriller roller coaster that is my female relationships sounds much more healthy than this non-chalant shit storm use abuse negligent smile and tell her she's pretty to get her to talk to you again even though she is your backup chick and you only call her when your address book has already been called and she will find out through the grapevine of family deaths or relocations or from the new girlfriend picking up my phone that shit in her world just got rocked.
OK, so I've got this going through me as I'm trapsing through the sand and toward the lovely little walkable Oh My Fucking Goodness Of Visual Thrilling Stimulation that is Surfer's Point... sure, the ones who could be surfing at 4pm were older or in high school, but watching a wetsuited form manipulate that board through the crashing swell of white powerful Mother Earth was just... well, give me a second, I need just one more second...
Yeah, so I didn't kill myself tripping on the rocks as I snapped some cool ass storm coming in pics OR when I winked profusely at anyone walking toward me. GO ME. (I'd post the pics but my email hasn't registered that I've sent them from my phone yet, FUCK if I have to deal with another call to the cell phone company to have them fix my damn text!!!!)
OK, so Sister comes out for the night. Its high times as we roll into blockbuster, then across the street to sushi, then back to drink heavily (add creme de menthe to whatever creamy yumminess you are drinking this season, sets the mood instantly ;) ) and see how much of a movie we can watch while fighting a kaluha coma.
Had an appointment at this really fucking cool deal of a pawn shop coalition kinda place... I need BUSINESS SUITS for the new job and they will give you, GIVE YOU, 4 on your first visit, then 2 more after you start the job!!! ROCK. So Sister and I played "take these back, find me something to go with this coat, what about shoes to match, how fucking CUTE am I in this REAL VINTAGE black on black satin get up, oh and how about this divine pale blue number with the matching lace top and the scarf as an accent" at the upscale thrift store where everything was FREE, toured Santa Barbara, stopped for some yumminess at the farmer's market, came home and walked the pup before she took off for work and I commenced to finish a liquor bottle ;)
OK, whatever the fuck is going on at Sister/Freakazoid Aunt's house, I have no detailed clue. I can tell you that its enough to have my sister call after her Saturday night shift and almost beg for me to invite her back to my place, get in the car at 10pm during a torrential rain storm with flash flood warnings and no visibility for about an hour so she could get AWAY from THAT.
Yes, I handed her a shot of what I was having as she walked in the door.
Yes, I know I'm fucking awsome =)
Can't really remember what we hot chicks did with ourselves that stormy night... some movie that we weren't into, some chatting, lots of drinking and we were up in the morning listening to the drain pipes drip and comparing dream notes before rolling over and passing out again. LOVE SUNDAYS. We had shots with our coffee as we cooked all the veggies we bought at the market, chowed with the dogs truely envious of our culinary abilities with foods we've never seen before (oh, and beets will make your next 2 days to the toilet SCREAMWORTHY, but ladies you didn't start your period 2 weeks early and men you won't need a q-tip up there, its just the beets, you are now more antioxidized than ever before and no the one trip isn't enough to get the red out, it WILL be there to get you screaming and checking for Freddy Kruger marks in the nether regions in the morning too - but coated in olive oil and baked at 425 for an hour they are SO DAMN TASTY you will forgo the knot on your head from the shock/jerk of the sight of the pool of red and you WILL eat the left overs for dinner), had a fine time divying up makeup and lotions before she was back off to work 45 minutes away.
Yeah, I continued to drink, thanks for asking! Travel mug, ice, lovely heating devices, a leash around my neck and the SO UBER EXCITED Shortstack and I were meandering for over an hour about our barely puddled neighborhood before she and I needed a nap. LOVE SUNDAYS, did I say that yet? Oh, can I also mention how much more fun it is to play with toys when you have the house to yourself??? Yeah, THOSE toys. Yeah, THAT much more fun.
Nap, phone calls, laughs at the freakish kiddy Christmas stuff on TV, some crafting while watching a show I actually might choose if I had more than 1 channel, and before I knew it the 11pm news was on! Somehow that left me with a journal entry (yeah, been a while since I put the pen to paper, but sometimes its the OTHER free therapy), a dream diary entry (Matthew McConaughey, dating, cooking, kissing, its all good stuff behind these eyes of mine), and a few pages of a book read and DAMN its 1:30am!!!
Did you follow that??? 2 days of pretty heavy drinking and I'm up til 1:30am the night before the 7 :45am FUCKASS Monday Morning Meeting!!!!
Lawdy Lawdy, and what a fucked Monday we've been having - just NOTHING getting done!!!
Lets put it this way, when your coworker is at the snack shack before 9am looking for a chocolate fix and tosses you a tube of Rolos "for later, you'll need it, trust me"... not ok.
Oh, and what the FUCK is with be STARVING all.the.fucking.time??? I wanted to try some diet pills this week but the meeting put a crunch on the "take 30 minutes before eating" stipulation so I'm on plain ol' caffeine today and somehow the fruit and veggies and beef with brocolli lunch and oatmeal breakfast and trail mix snack all has me LUNGING for the fridge in search of ANYTHING to chow on... is this what dieting is really gonna take?? Will I really just have to be hungry for 4 months to get this beer gut - the one that has my shirts have a CREASE where my waistband folds my feminine chub - to melt away????
Oh, wait, maybe I can make it to surfers point every day... surely some of them are out past dark, its further than the pier, and if I'm walking instead of running I won't need to strap down the Girls to the point of unrecognizeable femininity... hhmmm... snack on nothing but farmers market yummies and go find a surfer to wink at nightly... maybe the REAL beach girl in me is emerging...