Miss Menthol

For those of you just tuning in, I work in a cubicle.
The duration of these first months in Corporate America has been accompanied by Miss Menthol, My Cubemate.

If I were Laurie, I would shank her every week.

This is my impression of Miss Menthol (named for her type of cigarette which I am familiar with because she frequently rushes back to our 18 square feet (thats carpet squares for our two work spaces, not total space to move in) and sits in front of her fan and flips her hair afterward, sparking questions to me as to what kind of ciggies I prefer because my clothes and hair stink like I smoke):

See all that food? On the plate and in the mouth? And how it looks like that fat little chow hound isn't moving any time soon? Yep, I think it looks a lot like her - except Miss Menthol is six feet tall, stuck in the 80's half perm and black eyeliner with bangs to her lower lashes, and all the weight she carries is in her belly like she is about to birth a Virginia Ham.

Yesterday it was a toasted onion bagel with cream cheese at 10am, salmon and steamed (but still crunchy!) veggies at 11:30am that was snacked on before she left for 'lunch' at 12:30pm.

She returned to her desk at 1:50pm to really dig into the food that was sitting at her desk the whole time.

She commented on how it smells more fishy when its cold.

I left for lunch and came back to find her still HAND FEEDING herself bites of salmon, but she had moved on to her favorite snack of the month - a cup of carrot and celary sticks. I can't be sure if she left the peanut butter off because I was so disgusted at listening to her chew ALL DAY that the headphones were shoved in my audio caves and proudly bopping my head to the tune of the minute.

When she leaves at 5pm, she hands me the box of uneaten steamed at whenever this morning and been sitting ON HER DESK since 11:30am, asking if I wanted some fresh veggies to go with. She then handed me the rest of the fresh veggies as a bit of carrot is still being masticated.

I proceed to toss the funky food and loath Cubeville.

Today I come in and her computer isn't showing signs of her presence!!!!! I do a little ass shake and twirl in the cube as I easily slide into my seat.

You see, she got an extension to her temp position but only until they hire a full timer - then she's out. Her birthday was last week and her celebratory trip to the casino has her sitting pretty on months worth of car payments (the only reason she still comes in, supposedly).

I am overwhelmed with glee and my smile is engulfing my head when I hear her clodhoppen hooves get off the elevator and that raspy half laugh telling someone to have a great day with the 'bye bye' severly articulated to be sure it sounds insincere.

She comes in and boasts that she just didn't have the gumption to come in on time and so she didn't. Whatever. I am thrilled at the idea that all her extra time at home may give me a break in the noises of the trough she calls a desk.

Alas, I am a sucka.

35 minutes was all it took and she was off for breakfast. I got to hear the crunch of the walnuts and the slurp of the milk in every spoonful of her cream of wheat.

This is normally the part of the day I bombard myself with music, but today I was expecting numerous phone calls and pop ins and its never good to be checking CBW sites with headphones on when your boss is expected any minute - so I leave the headphones in my purse and concentrate on my own breath (yoga, chakras, third eye out of whack; you get where I'm going).

I finally get to leave my desk in search of someone and come back to find she is gone again!!! Oh Saving Silverman this is gonna be an alright day!

Oh, no, I am just an overzealous romantic with granduristic optomistic tendencies.

She was getting lunch. Tuna sandwich. That she puts together herself. With crunchy lettuce, goopy spoons to lick, and bite after bite coming from her desk, across the blast from her fan, into her mouth. This forces her to breath through her nose, which, like everyone's, is playing tricks on her due to the wind outside. So shes got the sniffles due to wind, and the fan at her desk that shoots right at her face is pushing the scent of tuna sandwich right at me. Got the scene in your mind??

Here I am in the pants I wore to my first post college job interview loathing the idea of taking lunch so early in the day, planning the gym routine for the evening, still trying to concentrate on my breathing while I wait for one last phone call, convincing myself that the only reason I want to eat is that I smell tuna.

Its now 1pm here. She is STILL eating that sandwich. She didn't take off for lunch. She has had TWO cigarette breaks since she started eating that sandwich. And I am about to drop my letter opener into the back of her neck if she doesn't stop sucking the bits of fish flesh from her teeth.

It is finally late enough in my day that I can feel ok about stuffing my face with a tuna sandwich. I have been adamant about not eating at my desk and find that control over my eating is a fantastic evolution on my will power and motivation in general. She looks me in the face and says "my birthday calories that don't count have been extended all week!! I don't know what they put in these cornbread muffins but they are gud." She leans toward me, pulls out the trash can, and, maintaining eye contact, SHOVES the muffin in until it won't go in anymore and smacks wide jawed until there is enough yellow paste dissolved to try to keep her chompers from full view.

So yesterday was onion bagels and salmon and crunchy veggies; today so far we have slurpy breakfast soup and two hours to eat a tuna sandwich.

The up side is she tends to disgust me with her bloated pregnant look, need for the elevator instead of stairs, and constant mow behavior that I actually loose my appetite. Though I am still in pants from years ago and they still fit, this has GOT to be aiding my health kick... right????

Potty Post

No, mentioning potty behavior wasn't enough.
I want a whole post to talk about what I think about in the potty.
Yes, I am a full grown woman who loves to use the word potty. Potty Potty Pot Pot Potty. I don't have kids, but lemme tell you, I enjoy the 'wanna go potty?' conversation with the dog Every Day.
Potty.
Its just fun.
And its a great place to collect your thoughts, if you don't have a cat wrapped around your leg or a dog licking your kneecap.

These thoughts all hit me today in the office stalled (not private) potty spot (though I Always snake the big one - its just better not to hit your elbows while trying not to hear other people poop.)

I had a big BIG confirmation that I am evloving as a self actualized woman - I shaved my cooch without any prospect of anyone else seeing it.
I was sick of changing into my gym clothes and getting three steps into visibility to the rest of the Super Cramped common area before the tiny undies I put on (I NEVER have panty lines and those workout pants are So Good for seeing my ass in that mirror wall; so out comes the stringy ones that, well, I just don't want my lips flappen when I stretch) start yankin on the wiry SOBs in the crease where my leg meets my lip.
I was quietly irking at the lack of direct cooch rub I would get by rocking in my chair at work; there was an unfamiliar pillow keeping me from my midday tease.
I soared with the idea that someday I would be in a long term committed relationship where I would enjoy keeping trim for my man but for now I can just shave the calves for the skirt I want to wear and leave the rest to fuzz up.
And I enjoyed the little finger warmer sensation at bed time.

Then, I noticed it. The smell of a woman. Coming from me.
I could tell what I had for lunch when I changed at the gym.
I realized why some guys just Won't. Go. There. after a long day.
There was a familiarity about that bottom filing drawer that should NEVER come to you while at work.
I knew that the woman in me was curious what her womaness looked like in its natural state; the woman in me that does laundry was dismayed at her inability to wear pants twice or thrice before washing.
I knew I had the power in my showered little hand.

And I hacked myself naked for the first time in a month.

Now, I am realizing all this while in the potty today. Its been a full day and a half since I dulled that razor and I am starting to get a little uncomfortable with growback stubble - surely the reason I decided to let it go the last time, since the legs haven't been lucky enough to miss the triumphant fun of stripping their top layers and being whipped by winds in the last month.

I then realized, in the ambiance that just sat with me as the heat from my legs and my pants aired before me, a bonus to being a girl.
You can change the scent of being a woman with a simple everyday habit - scented lotion.
Last week I was a bit sweet with a distinct musk that only comes with body oils having something to hang on to - this week I am a fruity floral that can only come in a muted orange bottle labeled "Embrace Today".
So there I was, sitting on the pot in the potty spot leaning over my knees to sniff the generous scents of womanness and Embrace Today and looking at my freshly shaved cooter and how nicely it all fits together there in the folds of my skin...

Ah, crap. Well, my mind is now racing over all that fun stuff. And I still have an hour to kill. Before I got to the gym. To see the little 20 yr old I saw stocking the melons at the store two weeks ago. And my gym rat dude who apparently came off hiatus and now has clients to keep him in my view every night of the week. And that other buff ass gym rat dude who is there Every Time I am and doesn't remember that I was the chick everyone was supposed to be super nice to when I started there (membership mishap, I don't wanna talk about it) and That is why he automatically posts a big salesman smile with the wink when I walk by. Mmmmm... and all the freshies who were in football last year and now in the off season get to work out with the normal people.
Yep, I'm officially ready for CBW.
I've realized how nice it is to have a cleaned off cooter, enjoyed the heated scent of myself mixed with the flavor of the day, and somehow imagined myself finding out how well I can work on my wrist strength with half the gym that I will be at in 45 min.
Ohm. Ohm. Ohm.
The big upside to having fluff on my muff was that when this little storm started its brewen I would have a natural barrier before the squishies got to me.
Oh, thats another fun word - squishy. Squishhhhy. Sqoooooishy. Sqooch. Cooch.
Ah boogers I did it again!!!! Boogers. Boog. Boogie. Booogga booogga. Pooka. Pookie. Poodie. Poodie Tang. Poonanie.
Fuck it, I have to go take care of something -

Cube Rants

Is it weird that I get nailed to the wall for getting coffee on the way to my desk and my boss gets to take a two hour lunch break four days a week? No? Just how the benifits roll, huh? OK...

Is it a bit screwy that Miss Menthol has been part of numerous whisper meetingswith my bosses ... and within 48 hours I get a slew of new work to do or asked what MINUTE I left for lunch? And that she takes off for 15 minutes at a time no less than 6 times a day goes completely unnoticed?? And that I have never had a meeting with any of her team???

Is there something really complicated about taking lunch breaks to eat?? Or is there some rule about working at a desk that I missed while answering the phone that demands that lunch breaks be taken during a part of the day when everyone needs you only to return with lunch in hand to chomp in their face while they freak out that you were missing?

I get the whole health kick. I do. I really really do. But whose brilliant idea was it to sell nuts, carrots, celery, rice cakes, and stale (read: crumbs EVERYWHERE) crunchy baguettes to a bunch of cubies who can't get to the next building for food?? I mean we KNOW they will just go back to the desk and munch them, so are we just HOPING they will take it outside and not ruin the sanity of the rest of the quad?

I ordered some supplies, including a special order item, the first week of January. I got half the basic order the next day. Today I got the special order stuff (perhaps because I emailed on Friday saying "dude, 2 weeks my ass, give me the Dilbert day planner pages or I'm gonna tell on you"). I am still waiting for the rest of the backorder. I mean seriously, its a day planner!! I just got the special order stuff from the same company!! This is something that is a Stock Item and should be easy to have on hand. Don't even try to tell me manufacturing is backed up because they forgot to make enough for all the oraganizing freaks that came out of the closet on New Years. I want my little leather bound book AND reciept envelopes that have the holes punched right in them and little zipper pouch. Now.

My chakras are WAY off. I did a yoga class on Saturday and it was more in the traditional vein with the sitting on your feet and chanting and laying down for naps in the middle of it and all that. I've gotta say, I know its the first time for this kind of yoga for me, but I felt REALLY OFF when the room gets all into it and I'm stuck with having to stare at myself in the mirror and say "do not laugh at them. it is not funny. you are uncomfortable. omg, they don't know the words but still want to sing!!!! do. not. laugh. it is your first class. go with it and see what happens."
No joke. Almost spewed boogers all over my mat trying to keep this to myself.
Even with all the fluid movements and naps ("lay on your stomach, toes touching, heels apart, make a pillow of your hands, turn your head to one side, now close your eyes and breath deeply". I wanted a carpet square, but the mat wasn't bad) and guided breathing and focusing on my life force, all I did when I came home was have fajitas, crack a beer, and vedge. It took me all day to get off that couch, and when I did I just went back to the gym to get my heart to start pumping again. Perhaps this is the 'worse before it gets better' part but I really won't be rolling out of bed and rushing over to the 11:30am class if all its gonna do is make me sleep through the rest of my Saturday. I mean I do that already, I don't need chanting and public naps to help me out.

I don't want to grow up. Sweets in the cube next to me has $2500 in an account with a big major investment company that she put in 10 years ago and they now don't like her tiny account anymore and have asked her to close the account or they will charge her $30 a month until it empties itself and closes all on its own. So every two days since she got this letter (before we left for Christmas) I have gotten to hear her defend her right to have access to her own money, told them she would never have thought to leave the company unless they TOLD HER TO, faxed a form no less than 6 times, FedEx'd it twice, and plain old mailed it the first time. She has a list of names of every person shes talked to, has three managers that know her by name, and STILL is fighting to get her money.
I just found a really cool tin that I don't know what to do with. I think its my new savings account. If this is the pain in the arse you have to get the returns on your investments, I don't think I'll be up for it at retirement. I'll just take my tin of old school paper money to the airport and get the ever lovin f*ck out of town.

The are f*cking with my coffee again. Last week we got new pocket sized packs of the preground cheeeeep stuff. This week we now have the massive caraffe with the ppuuusssshhhh button on top. Having just mastered the sugar cube to sludge to powdered 'creamer' (seriously, can you call it creamer if it is in powder form? do we call ice 'liquified ice' when it completely changes consistancy and usefullness? NO. Its not right.) ratio, I am a little cranky about this. Here is the problem: lets see how long it takes to teach this many monkeys that when you make that much coffee, you need to rip open MORE PACKETS of coffee or else its just, well, bean tea. OK, not too big a deal, right? I mean now there is like NO excuse to be out of coffee at 9am, right? But these freaks were all about the two packets per pot before, and now there is a sign saying how convenient it is to rip open one packet and brew. IT ISN"T COFFEE IF YOU CAN SEE THROUGH IT.

I got an email this morning titled "FYI". The contents were "have you thought about this?" followed by a job description. Its the permanent position for my cubemates job. She is not qualified for the job she has been doing. The deparment is making it a permanent position beacuse of the audit she performed during the last quarter of last year, but with the new status of the position they are requiring that all candidates be certified smart. I happen to be certified smart. I happen to know the hiring manager and half the department, including the direct manager. They all think I'm Midas or some crap because I know how to file. While that hasn't transfered respect to any of the rest of my potential, I have a sneaky feeling that I know all of the interview panal and the forwarding party's followup of "let me know if I can be of any help" could get me in the door.
I applied for it as I was composing this post. I didn't tell my cubemate. I still have some issues with Cubeville being the best opportunity in town. This is everlasting. I wonder if there is some perfect job for everyone or if some of us are just lazy enough to find going to the gym for a nap a waste of a morning.
As the bosses chit chat for the last half hour of their day, right behind my desk, I contemplate how much nicer it would be to sit here knowing I had a dentist appointment, a physical, a massage, and three gym classes scheduled this week that were to be comped by the company. I think of how nice it would be to call in sick when I get sick ::knock on wood:: instead of wondering if I can make it with another short paycheck this month. I think of all the money the company would already put into a 401K for me, how many paid holidays I would have the first year, and how great 'fermentation seminars' would be with the likes of these lads I see every day.
Hmmm... and as the bosses that came in at 9:23am area bolting out the door after a two hour lunch today, I wonder "is it REALLY that bad to be here??"

With that, I'm out to catch the sunset... with my purse in hand in case I need something from my car... or to sit in because the wind picks up... um, yeah... (and if you have temps, just say hi once in a while, they are people too... otherwise don't bitch when they shuffle your files and bail early)

Remember This?

I posted this picture a bit ago and had a lovely conversation with Pisser about it:

Actually I got a few comments about Mr. Fish here...

I thought of this photo while I watched Tivo'd "Lost" last night. I'm not sure how I'd missed this before, but the episode was a repeat where we learn about Hurley's past life.

To you non-followers (or those who SUCK at names, like I usually do - seriously, I can read a BOOK and not know the name of the main character if you ask me with my face in it), Hugo Hurley is the fat guy who after 50 some odd days hasn't lost any massive amounts of weight.

Yes they found a food locker but that wasn't until like a month later and he shared it with everyone even though Jack the hot doctor who used to be Charlie in "Party of Five" and the sole reason I missed the entirety of season one (how do you get over Charlie turning into Jack??? Take a year to get used to the idea, thats how. And Yes, I do miss Bailey too. But not Miss I'm so friggen cute I can squeak and fake cry through every episode Sarah, played my Miss Jennifer my tits were too big for my body until I ate something and got terrible bangs on my new show Love Hewitt.)

Hurley can also be recognized by the amazingly curly hair to his shoulders which probably isn't the most flattering style for the roundy face he has, but it does hide the sideburns and stays remarkably unfrizzed dispite the constant rainstorms and beachy breeze he is subjected to.

(ok, I wonder and wonder who is keeping the electric razor charged so all the guys don't have beards by now. I think I saw a straight razor in one episode, but they all seem to maintain that three day stubble for like WEEKS and it kinda freaks me out. At the same time I wonder if there is a switch in the brain that says "desert island + no food + lots of hot girls in clothes that stay terrifically tight and in place while never being washed or taken off = save bodily resources and acheive maximum Stetson Man appeal by not growing facial hair after three days." I also wonder if the girls have the same switch and thats why they don't have to braid their armpit hair already. Lemme know yo.** This is starting to distract me from the drama of the show.**)

I'm getting all wrapped up in it, I know.

The point was gonna be - check out the puffer fish. Then think of Hurley. Think of the close ups when he is biting his lip to not laugh at himself. Think of how often they have him turning to face someone and you get a partial profile with a great view of his puffy bottom lip, wide round eyes, and a super round face to frame these features. Now look at the puffer fish.

See!!! That little flipper hangen down frames the shot like Hurley's locks frame the, well, shot** half the time hes on screen. That unassuming face with the sweet lack of chisle or crease... and the potential to freak you right the f*ck out if you cross either of them (did you see how he was all fierce with Charley on the rerun this week? Come On, that was somethin!)

Yes, I do like Hurley. Not in a Must Have Him Now kinda way; more like a I'd Like To Play Darts And Share A Pitcher At The Watering Hole way. Yes, I would like to bump into some guy at the Scoop Shoppe who is as mild mannered, go with the flow, eager to please, shy in his pursuits yet determined to a fault to get what he wants (he ended up in Australia and landed him on that flight because he NEEDED to KNOW. That is dedication).

Go on. Give me shit. I don't care. He's cute. And so is the fish. Blow me* if you don't agree.**

*That works on SSOOOOO many levels here, doesn't it??

**I do not know whats with all the rhyming today. Just go with it.

Random Crap

Hi! This is where I dump some fun stuff because I know I've been a bitchy whiner lately and its not all that bad...

1 - I saw my gym rat dude again. He's been kinda MIA since I met him way back when... then Monday I saw him giving a free session to someone and watched him the whole time (hence the treadmill episode - seriously, those things are evil and I got off with vertigo for like 7 minutes). Then last night I went to take a class for the first time and asked if there was a protocol and the snotty 17 year old behind the counter told me to sign up on the clipboard where the trainer was standing. It was him. He was blissfully chatting with another freebie with his elbow right over the clipboard. It took a minute for anyone to notice I was just standing there, two feet from him, in my frumpy college sweatshirt and the missettes all smashed into a sports bra, seeing the definition of the bicep next to the triceps right above the elbow where his black tee ended and his tanned and toned skin began. One of the WAY too perky dude counter helpers asked if there were anything he could help me with and gym rat dude was quick to turn, look me right in the face with only the slightest recognition (or massive recognition without the gall to show it) while he said "well next time, just push me out of the way!" I stumbled on 'well ok then!' as he took his client down the counter a bit. Ah, a bit of a reason to be at the gym - much more fun to admire his strong swagger than the greasy hair guido that barely keeps the feet movin and doesn't hide his need to be on a machine next to the walkway, nor his need to watch the girls asses walk by until he is completely twisted in the other direction; boyfriend in tow or not. No joke. I laughed out loud at him last week. Better than muted Jeopardy.

2 - Its Miss Menthols birthday today. I came in to a severely decorated cube and a plate of straight from the tube to the oven cookies. They were half gone by lunch and I didn't/ haven't had ONE. That's right folks - this hating my body type out of nowhere syndrome has really taken its hold on me to the point of choosing water over fresh baked chocolate chip cookies!! Don't get me wrong, if they were real Tollhouse, mixed with two bare hands, misshapen and monstrously oversized... I would have snagged a stack while she was on her 1.75 hour lunch. Yes, MOT, I did tell her boss when she went to lunch... and her coworker came in saying something about how its her birthday and she should have stayed out until 3!!!

3 - Whoever thought to serve french fries with tacos is retarded. It just doesn't make sense.

4 - The size -2 (no kidding, she can't buy real clothes, she has to get them taken in to fit) freak of a smokers cough that used to be my direct manager came in today at 11am with a gigantic coke and a very full bag of fast food to share with my 105lb boss. They stunk up the place with hot salty greasy stench of cheap crappy food and it made me hungry about two hours early. Both of these girls I would gladly take over my knee and paddle if I weren't so afraid that their vampire-esque acrylic nails could quickly be used to carve into my torso and pick my heart out cleanly... or sever my Achilles tendon in one quick lash... oh, and I would really need to find a job, like, now if I swaddled my managers. Agh, nice thought though =)

5 - I was invited by Tempura (remember the guy who I was gonna do sushi dinner with before he went home at Thanksgiving who ended up staying here until after Christmas; I drove to his parents house for another sushi dinner and came home to get my CDs stolen from my car?? that guy) to fly out to Indiana for a weekend.
It didn't start that way, but he eventually backpedaled enough to make me stop hyperventilating that another guy met me and wants to take me home with him.
The kicker is that last time I fell for it, that I really like the changes in my personal strength and fortitude that has come from it, and these two guys went to high school together.
What EXACTLY do they teach guys in the locker rooms these days???
Oh, and what kind of loner do you need to be to not hear from someone for a month and when they finally give in to "are you still alive?" and return your call you invite them to come to the other side of the country to be with you? Yes, he invited me to be with him, even offer the 'L' word to make it somehow easier for me to stop laughing out loud at the idea that I would jump in a Uhaul and bust ass to go there.
Oh, and when I said I didn't call for a myriad of reasons, one of which being that I need a career change and am having a crisis picking a direction, he mentioned having kids. Yes He Did!!! I threw that back at him too.

It could be worse I suppose... I mean its kinda sweet that he met me for dinner and wanted to figure out a way to get me to his domain immediately and it only took another two months for him to bring this idea up to me. That he has been thinking of me the whole time I haven't talked to him and pointedly blown him off (no, not that way) and mentioned I had some personal stuff to work out that included closure with another man and that my latest coping methods for stress are alcoholism, insomnia, depression, bitch fits, and talking myself out of bulimia and cocaine as resolutions for my sudden onset of feeling like a fatass. He called me nuts, then told me the flights are really cheap and there is a breeze to navigate.

And you know what? I'm considering it. I mean come on... when else am I gonna go to Indiana??!!?!?? And its not like I hate the guy (Curmudgeon, hear me now), its just that I was a bit disappointed that he was so nervous around me he couldn't deal with entertaining me. Oh, and he uses food for coping more than I do. Oh, and I don't see myself in a long term relationship of any kind with him. But what's a weekend trip to me these days? I liked the change of pace last time I was out of town for him... and this time I will have an itinerary of time tables to know what I am getting into! I don't know, I told him I have some shit to work out here but I'd let him know.

6 - Is it maybe the weather that is giving me headaches? I swear, my shoulders were WAY tense the other day, you all called that one... Laurie was dead on in saying the drink would cure it... the hot showers and concentrating on getting my ears away from my shoulders and the yoga last night had me all chakra aligned and energy flowing and oxygenated and stuff... and this morning I was GREAT!!!
Its now 3 hours past lunch where I was home with the pets and in my safe place with a homemade sandwich and a yogurt and big glass of water. I came back to the desk and had 2 Excedrin an hour later. Now I can't stop peeing because of the amount of water I've had, am a little hungry but convincing myself its the RAPIDLY BEING HOOVERED plate of cookies (still none for me!) behind me making my mouth water, and that there is NO WAY one drink a night with an occasional binge is making my head hurt by 3pm every day. Yes, MOT, I am going to Target this weekend and GoldenSeal is on the list.
Its gotta be the cubes man. I'm thinking of calling in sick tomorrow. I can still make my car payment with a short paycheck. That, or I'm gonna see if my boss comes back from her afternoon gym class and if she doesn't I'm not coming back from lunch.

7 - I love you guys. =) I mean it. I love hearing from you, hearing about you, having you add me to your blogrolls, getting your help with my sidebar or health, and knowing that there are people scattered across the US thinking of me helps me appreciate the little things these days. You've collectively pushed aside my grey clouds and helped me admire the grey stitching of my cube walls for what they are - a box I need to start thinking outside of!! Its been a pleasure meeting you, and I am immensely interested in keeping in touch with you even if I do get a job that doesn't allow me to write emails and read blogs ALL DAY. =) Thanks for the smiles and the love, you make me feel like this with every email notice:

I saw it on CuteOverload and it had this caption that I will not keep from you:

Dogku

Sleeping here, my cheek on your chest,

no greater bliss

well, except pooping

8 - I have noticed a lot of blogs mentioning their excrement, flatulence, or the places these activities are regimented to in public... (I'd link them but they are older posts and I'm not that savvy to direct you Right There) coincidentally I have just become able to freely think about my own digestive habits. As I am trying to understand the natural cycle of many of my habits (i.e. spending, hording, eating, dressing in heels, gym tendencies, drunk dial/text/email/blogging/journaling tendencies), I seem to have become more aware of myself as a whole. It seems my intestines have a very particular way of letting me know if they like my current lifestyle or not. Lately, not so much love from the insides... then again I hear the transition from eating fat laden carbs at any given chance to water and lean protein and veggies all the time is bound to take its toll on the public restroom etiquette. I don't even care anymore - if I want to fart, I do; if the coffee has stimulated ALL of me and you walk in to the next stall, I won't wait for you to finish so I can finish; and if I've just finished twisting my body for almost two hours and I want to let one rip in the ally on the way to the car, I don't care if you smiled at me walking by, I won't warn you to walk only after the next breeze. Thanks for the precedence ya'll.

We've now come to the part of the day where I make a quick trip to the other side of the building for no reason but to check the desks of my coworkers and see if anyone is left to catch me leaving early. Enjoy yourselves...

Roomie Bitch

Iwas thinking the chore schedule was a little offputting of an idea, but somehow I think a 'quite please' curfew isn't out of line at this point.

I don't think we should have to put cotton around the edges of the cupboards to sleep past 7am, or that we have to get out of bed at 3am to tell them to shut up, or to think there is an emergency downstairs because they are having a conversation and have to scream about it... and this whole "I have my own food, but thanks" is great except it makes me feel like whatever we have to offer isn't good enough.

Personality quirks aside, its like they feed off each others most selfish habits and let each other have them so they can have their own! Its amazing that they don't feel the house shake under their power! And I just can't think of a nice way to say "I know you don't drink during the week and your going to tell me you don't pass judgement but I heard you 'oh' when I poured the vodka last night - I only did it so I MIGHT be able to handle being in the same house with you while we are both awake. It didn't work, I still wanted to stab sharpened pencils into my ears. Is there any possible way the volume and frequency of your voice could be turned down? Oh, and I hear you walking, you don't need to "hmmm" and "aahhhhh" while you move to be noticed. And no, I will not be manipulated into asking about your day, where you were last night, what your having for dinner, or who you were talking to on the phone. I will give you until the end of the weekend to stop walking into a room talking over me before I will throw little yellow FOUL flags and put you in the corner for 10 min for doing it. Is there really something in your head that makes you have to repeat everything you say immediately after you say it only louder, faster, and more sing-songy? Like, Come On."
Yeah, I'm having a hard time thinking of a nice way to say that.

I am now sure that she was the cause of my headache. Boss sucks, sure; Miss Menthol isn't helping; the gym workout may have exacerbated the symptoms... but when it comes down to it, my world was at a level of stress and then this little bitch moves in and ten days later I need two days of concentrated breathing, self shoulder massages, muscle relaxers, and a yogi to kinda feel a little less pounding in my skull??? She is the only X factor.

The only way I know its not just me bitching is easy!
We have a cat who lives in the kitchen. Whenever Talks McSqueeky comes in, Binky (the cat) gets under the chair and watches her... with her ears flat against her head.
The dogs won't hang with us if we are in the living room - I found them upstairs. This had NEVER happened before. To be downstairs means party time to these lab mixes... and they take stairs to NOT be with us???
Oh, and we've had people over who give us "you've GOT to be kidding" looks when they meet her.

And the roomie who gave her the go ahead to move in without so much as us UpStairs Girls knowing her name or move in date? Completely oblivious to the problem because they are mutated from the exact same strand of the demon spaun of inconsiderate bleached blonde twits who need guys to drool over them to feel worth while - the only difference is one will sleep with them and the other won't.

In other news - My Sidebar Is Fixed!! Miraculously, I stirred up the code in the Template and the preview nor going to the side lent any satisfactory solution... then I check my emails today and I get Congrats and Whatsamatta's ... and come on over and Its Back Where It Belongs!!
I'm so glad to not have this waiting to be fixed and PROMISE to check my picture sizes and linked-like-this-sentances before hiding all my links at the bottom of the screen again =)

There's more, but maybe later, my finger nails are starting to get long and if I beat them on the keys too long they break =( Plus, I have to go read your blogs!!

Remedy Me

I just realized I've had a headache since yesterday morning.
Sometimes this happens when I forget to have coffee on the weekend and I CRAVE it on Monday morning... sometimes I get all pissy when people accuse me of having less than admirable morals and I can't go scream about it...

Well, anyway, I remembered at lunch yesterday that I had a headache when I thought food would cure it.
And again as the day ended when I was gonna use it as an excuse to not go to the gym.
And again after the 3 miles on a treadmill (see that MOT, three months and 3 miles! not running, just 4 mph with an incline, but my heartrate was in range the whole time!).
And when I got home to have dinner I thought the food would help, and refused the offered wine just to be safe.

I'm drinking water. I've had caffeine. I've excersised. I've eaten. I've slept.

This morning I thought it was the ache in my upper body muscles that made me sleep funky and all I would have to do is remember to let my shoulders out of my ears and push in some blood flow and all would be well.
Its now after lunch, I had 32 oz of water this morning with my shake and tumbler of coffee for breakfast and a very healthy stir fry for lunch.
When I realized my job today is to move a bunch of stuff from one side of the building to another, I got a cup of caffeinated tea and an Excedrin (just one, in hopes that I am not a lost cause).

Yes, I did put my hair up today. But I put my hair up everyday. I don't think thats it.

Yes, my life is enough to cause me much mental anguish, but an actual headache???

OK - the real reason I am asking for home remidies is multi fold:
1) I am a temp with no insurance and don't want to pay ImmediateCare $80 to tell me to take an asprin;
2) I like to hear from you all =);
3) in my family, when you get a headache that won't go away, you try to sleep it off for a week, then go to the doctor and find out its a tumor in your brain and end up in the hospital a month after being diagnosed with cancer and die from the aggression of the disease and the treatments two months after going to the doctor with complaints of a persistant headache.

Yes, this actually happened.
And yes, I was living with my mom when she tried excedrin and water and shoulder rubs and coffee and sleep to get rid of this damn headache.

So, if you all would tell me that green tea or a sauna or a chiropractor or yelling at my boss or watching the sunset at the beach will get rid of this 36 hour pain in my head - I'll try it and report my results.
Except you, Viewfinder, you always get me with that noreply@blogger.com BS. Do you come back to the comments and see if I talked to you? Or is it a ploy for me to get into your comments and chat back??? (I'm cranky because my head hurts and because I keep writing out emails to you and getting the mailer damion telling me I suck. I enjoy you, but let me chat back =) )

Also, can YOU post pics these days? Is blogger just picking on me because I can't figure out how to get my sidebar on the SIDE of my posts? I wanted to post another pic but it won't load.
Stupid Blogger. Hrumph.

A Renactment

Actual email sent to an ex-roomie/chick who got me in at this company, minus all the SmileyCental shaking angry dudes that probably gave my computer a virus but that are too pefect with their little red faces to leave out: {and Blogger won't let me put in the pic I want to add here as a substitute}

** fair warning, I am about to spontaniously combust, so if the email is incomplete, call the fire department**

So I walk in on time and glad to be, ready to see if Miss Menthol decided to show up today, ready to plan a week of fake smiles and earphones, maybe catch the super cutie with the corner office and chat about his latest jaunt around the country...
And I get an email from my boss asking if I'd done my timecard yet (we had a whole thing a few weeks back about the timing of it all so I don't get behind in paychecks again) and after verifying I replied "Sure did!" (wondering why she didn't just check to see if there was anything to approve). So she calls me and says "I see your time card but I want you to change it. I remember seeing you with your purse that one day at 9:30am and this other day your lunch was too long."

OKOKOKOKOK.

I reply calmly "I didn't know I did that, but since you have the days and memory of it, I'll go change it."
So she starts in with "it was that day you wore that really cute skirt... and then this other day [my friend who's cube wall you share who works with both of us] couldn't find you at lunch time so you were gone for two hours. I just want that to be reflected in your time sheet."

This is where I wish I had that air spout they talk about blondes wearing ponytails to hide... to let the steam out.
I am trying to recall what she is talking about!!!!!!
It dawns on me, and I explain "your right. There was a day I didn't get back to my desk until 9:30am because I started my period on the way to work and had to go clean up the mess I'd made and you saw me going BACK to my desk."
"Oh, well, but..."
"And now that the recycled office supplies are on the other side of campus (four blocks away) and I am helping [cool chick who shares my other cube wall who just got promoted over my managers head] move her office I am over there three times a week looking for stuff and its no longer just a stop in for three minutes - they have construction on the street after the security guy writes up a temp. parking permit for me to look for TACKS so that is now a 20 minute job - if I don't see any hope of finding it. If there is a stack of newly dropped off boxes, I get to get into them head first for half an hour, looking for TACKS. Before I come to my desk and have to special order them for her. You know, kinda like those little clippy things you asked me for two weeks ago? That was 45 minutes away from my desk. So, Manager, I understand that I have been very poor at writing myself out of the office on the white board, but I didn't try to mess with my time card over it."
Her, a bit sheepishly; "well, if it was for work thats fine, but when we are really busy, and people are looking for you, the first person they come to is me - so we need to know when your at lunch and when you're across campus and and and and and..."

So, I didn't change my timecard.
I am terribly upset that she thinks I was cheating her out of time.
I am enraged that there was a day in December when she didn't come to work (without thinking to tell me) and I went home sick (after waiting for three hours for her to reply to me and tell me its ok) and no one would have known the difference if I'd have just stayed home at lunch but I clocked myself short 4 hours anyway.
Most of all, I hate starting a day with "you liar!! I caught you and I wasn't gonna say anything until you tried to push this past me but your a liar!!"
Oh, and it was all I could do not to mention that this really busy week she is talking about?? I didn't SEE HER, get an email from her, hear her voice, or get a voicemail from her for 2.75 days. Yep, she needs me SO often that I can go for day after day after day without knowing she exists.

Yep, looking for a new job as I finish this up.
So much for "come and go as I please".
I will literally be writing out on the white board every time I leave my desk - in case she thinks I take too long at the bathroom one day.
And remember the days when I would walk in and be at her desk at 9am with a stack of questions?
And not leave the building until 10pm because I was so into my job?
Eating lunch at my desk because I was so into getting the work done and wanting to be the bestest little temp she ever did see?

F*ck that.
I've dumped best friends for making me feel half as low, half as remedial, half as misjudged, HALF as ready to rip my toenails out one at a time because it would hurt less than being told you have no morality - and those were people I liked to start with.

Having just learned I am at an will employee, it is all I can do to stay here right this minute.
I can buy dog food if I take a pay cut.
And only be yelled at by customers who don't know me from the next receptionist - not people I'm supposed to respect.

-- My ex-roomie's reply:
WOW. That was such an explosive rant I am kinda scared to say anything!!!

To add insult to injury, I got a loving call from my home business recruiter letting me know how well her business is going and that the promotion to the next step she has been working toward is on the wire... and how grateful she was that I have been such a support in her business and her personal life... and how relatively easy its been to get a complimentary car payment reimbursement from the company on top of commission checks and a 'raise' for all the work shes put in to get promoted... and where the training for all this was on the website.

So I get reamed first thing on a Monday morning by my glass ceilinged Cubeville stab my eyes out with pencils lameass job and then get a call from a close friend who wants to share her joy in life that her job is so rewarding.
I nearly cried when she asked how my day was going.
In front of the building.

I haven't done one work project all day!! Its nearly 1pm!!!! OK, so I emptied the fax tray into the inboxes, and got some email, and answered my phone three times. But I haven't DONE anything that would be part of my job description but the fax thing (exciting, I told you!!). I think 4 hours might be a new record... usually I sneak in a 20 minute break from blog reading and job searching somewhere in there!!

How is your day going?

::blink::

Its mid afternoon on a Friday.
It is a relentless fight of will power to stay here.
I don't know what I would do if I weren't here, but damn it I know there is something out there to do.
Complicating the issue is my dedication to reading blogs - and one of my favorites participates in CBW - and with Aunt Flo on her merry F*ing way out of my life, and a weekend to stare down, and a bigggg blurred cock in my face, all I can think of is who I will pounce this weekend.
And no, MOT, He is not on the damn list!!!
Think a solo quicky will make it EASIER to sit in my desk like a good little temp??
Or that I'll be able to concentrate on the four projects I could be doing right now?

Hmmm... only time will tell I suppose... but Happy Hour is really coming up quick... and I know my favorite roomie just got paid... and so did I... hhmmmmm...

EDIT: Confession: I was such a clutz this morning... I got the new creamer out of the fridge, noticed it wasn't pouring, twisted off the big cap to remove the seal - reading carefully the 'shake well' notice on the foil - , twisted the cap back on, and shook vigorously. Well, until I felt the smack of creamy white goo on my face. I forgot to snap shut the cap folks. And was TOTALLY late to work because I decided to wipe up the goo my dogs wouldn't eat for me instead of leaving a splatter of white splash across the kitchen.
Furthermore, it was due to this lame ass move and other amazingly lame things happening today that I fought my way through a lunch at home... homemade lasagna, pups to pet, a gym bag to pack (Thanks Curmudgeon Post!!)... and could NOT resist the urge to take the empty water bottle, dump a Diet Coke can into it, and fill the empty 4 oz space with Bacardi Dark.
Eh-Chem.
Yep, Thats Right - I am confessing to you that I brought alcohol onto the worksite. Its taken me a good two hours to work it into my system, but right about now I am afraid to get up and go to the printer!!!!
Ah, its better than not being here at all I guess.
And I'm in a much better mood - though the CBW is still firmly imprinted as the ONLY thought in my head.
Oh, and I'm SUPER caffeinated too... that doesn't help a damn thing.

Hope its not too much pressure to keep my secrets. I'm a major clutz and apparently working on a serious alcohol addiction with a minor segway into a hair trigger sex drive. But seriously, isn't diet soda SO not tasty when its not a mixer???

Cut Off

At exactly what point are you a loner?
I mean, I have dropped the bar flys, ditched the one nighters turned regulars, been dumped by anyone resembling a dating relationship, and chosen to stop talking to a number of other drag-me-downs.
And now, I realize that even my cubemate is on my shitlist. She and her "Am I fired or not?" attitude have been funkin up the atmosphere in here for days and now that she is past her technical 'last day' and everyone can laugh about her maybe being fired this week, I just don't wanna talk to her.
Sure, she usually isn't much of a peach, but this week I had no less that THREE great mornings that turned into days of self loathing, bad karma, and lots of drinking after work to drown my 'what ifs' in...
That bitch has, at least for the day, been cut off.
And no amount of "I didn't like this scone from the deli, do you want it?" is gonna fix it.

A New Day

I was on time to work this morning.
I had completed projects that no one thought I'd finished yet.
I am on top of no less than three projects that I am confident will be done by the end of the week.
My mind is alert and I am not over psycho on caffeine.
I had breakfast.
I brought a book to read at lunch.
Oh - and I've been here for 45 min and already started working!!!

Yep, crazy new me these winds are stirren up...
Watch out now.
I'm back.
Full speed ahead.
And menstruating.
Hear me roar.

Um, ME??

So I was all hating sitting here with no gumption to even look at the work I had to do... so I filed a little stack, then another little stack, then took off for lunch.
I ended up going home for all the healthy and yummy snacks I don't have to spend money on and to refill my spirit with dog kisses and my pillbox with ibuprofin =) =)
My fave roomie was home, just hangin, and asked how my day was.
I gave her the long version, then she told me about a job offer she got, and we gabbed and snacked and played with the dogs and then I had a bowl of Mocha Almond Fudge ice cream with pecans and Hershey Syrup to make soup out of it and curled up watching the last 10 minutes of whatever was on TV before going back to work.
Well you know what!!??? It was the show ending at 3pm.
I left for lunch at 10 to 1pm.

Uh HEM.
THEN my other roomie came home with some story and I had one foot out the door winking at my fave roomie and ditching mid sentance.
I slide into my desk hoping the voicemail waiting isn't some urgent 2pm meeting I was supposed to attend to... check my emails for my bosses meeting request or "let me know when you get this" that she passive aggressively catches me with...
There was NOTHING.
W H E W.
There is the tell tale giggle of my group going out to their smoke break turned walking gabfest behind my cube wall to get to the elevator (yep, they are quiting smoking and walking instead but take the elevator instead of the stairs - run with that!)
I feel I'm safe.

10 minutes later my cube wall sharer comes over and asks the status of a project I haven't touched that I was told about a week and a half ago.
I say I'm 50% done.
Then my boss comes over and asks that I please remember to write on the board where I go and when I'll be back.
I nearly started with the excuses, but they didn't need them.
And since then I've found the stack of missing folders to scan the contents of, did all the scanning and copying, found out this week will have no less than FIVE planned projects for me (even though they are supposed to be to busy to remember I exist), and I have rediscovered the color of my desk.
And type all this.
All in the two hours since I've been back.

Here's the kicker - I did nothing all morning, took basically a two and a half hour lunch break, and came back to the office to be admired for my wardrobe (I found a totally cute Jackie O kinda coat to match my skirt while I was home) and be introduced to the new girl (who filled the cube I cleaned and marred myself for last week) as "well, shes just amazing - she gets everything done and is always keeping right on top of whatever you give her and shes just a dream to work with".
From the boss bitch.
Who just curled her lip and asked me to check out for lunch.

Whoa.

I smiled quite in shock and told the new girl if she needs any office supplies to come ask and once she is settled to call me for all her copying, scanning, faxing, mailing, and filing needs. =)
Take that Miss I'm Too Smug For My Tiny Frame Sucka!!
I quickly plugged my headphones in and stood in front of the copy machine for the next 45 min.
In heels.
While my body fights itself in the natural process of "you got fucked but your a good girl and remembered the condoms to avoid not seeing me again so lets make this a good one - HA!" vs. "I really can't be laying in bed all day so empty that bottle of little red pills right here in the back of my throat, there ya go".
And I find myself knocked up on muscle relaxants enough to think of carting two full file cabinets to my desk to get a fresh start on this project for tomorrow... or maybe making it to the gym... or just standing in front of the copier for another hour...

Yep, gotta love drugs man!!!
Best yet - my mom got me hooked - oh, and their LEGAL!!! And CHHHEEAAAPPPP! Ah, the simple pleasures in life.
So in another hour I'll need this kind of support... there could be worse things...

Um, yeah... Sorry, what?

Its noon on a Monday here in Cubeville.
My cubemate has successfully told me of all her dieting triumphs and has already had two meals and a snack.
I've been here less than three hours.
My boss has come to give me one piece of paper and a heads up that the rest of my department will be excrutiatingly busy until Friday and therefore I will have nothing to do until next week.
She told me this two weeks ago - last week was a constant train of work to do immediately so I don't know what she is actually preparing me for this week.
Except that she won't be here Thursday afternoon.

I think I'll go see a movie with my roommate then. Yep, thanks for the notice!

So I'm here, iWannaBePod cranked up to avoid listening to the wheezing and chomping over a chicken salad with apples and walnuts... I've moved some stacks of work around my desk so if the boss comes back it looks like I've worked... had a Rockstar for breakfast instead of coffee and still Aunt Flo is incessantly knocking on the door hard enough to shake off the window treatments without actually coming in and offering any real relief... and the sooooooopppppeeerrrrr cute guy with the office at the corner of I-don't-wanna-be-here and my bosses office is here and gave me a huge smile while he let me know he's only here until 1pm before dashing back off across the country.

Yep. Its daydream central around here. Wouldn't it be lovely for him to have two minutes to tell me what he does and how to be at his side for even a moment on one of these adventures across the country?? Talk amoungst yourself, I have a dream to attend to. ... ...

The pluses if the weekend - My roomie that I didn't meet until the day after she moved in is only slightly annoying. Shes 22 and fresh out of college and skweaky and gets visibly tossed off one Miller Lite. But she has a few thoughts and some life experience and the fact that she is a size 2 is only a little frustrating while I am trying to convince myself the spinach salad for dinner was plenty to sustain me until bed time. But she was conversationally stimulating enough to keep me from trolling the fridge, so that was nice.

I was at the ocean twice in the last week. Both times I ended up sobbing uncontrollably. No idea why but I hate Aunt Flo for lots of reasons, including my snot smears on my car blanket. Fortunately I got to have a little wonderful moment of clarity - or seven. This left me with the need to sleep immense amounts of my weekend away. This is still fortunate, as I also cried the tears right out of my looming black clouds and slept until the wind carried away their traces.
I woke this morning actually refreshed.
Thank you beach access parking lots and concrete steps to the sand - tourists and sob stories would be lost without you.

Since none of my 'friends' called me back this entire weekend, I realized its time for a quest- stop keeping to yourself and show the world some Miss Sassy already!! This being alone business is really not for me, and being trapped in the back of a cube with a moose of a woman really doesn't cut it for me. If the wind had died down, and if my body isn't in full revolt, maybe I'll go somewhere public for lunch. Just sit and be pretty for a while in my heels and skirt and notice-me-pink top. Hey, Sooper Cutie noticed, why shouldn't the rest of the lunching population?

WTF Friday

Seriously folks - What The F*ck??

[I had a whole four pages of rant - but having to race to the potty to deal with the repurcussions of having a Rockstar to keep awake, I thought of a much more clever few tiny rants for your cynical delight. Perhaps I'll post a WTF Friday Part Duex, or just wait for another bout of blood boiling nonsense to bitch about. In any case...]

The moon is W A Y past full, ever inching its way back to a sliver... so whats with the two weeks of PMS? Its like my roomie and I refuse to fill the garbage with tampons in one week and she took the first shift so I have to wait it out. The dogs will be pleased at all the treats, but seriously I'm about to shove the big one down the stairs.

My skin is so parched I can not only count the open wounds caused by rushing a paper into the copy machine (3) but punctures from a harried toss of a spiral bound notebook (2) and chunks of flesh taken at various times of the week by taking my rings off to wash my hands (3).

I am refusing to partake in the Faux-Pa Sharing Friday gossip fest and leave my headphones in and cranked nearly all the way up for such long durations I actually wore them to the pot and couldn't hear the tinkle and peed on my hand. How long since you did THAT?

So I had to wash my hands throughly and now the parched hand syndrome has elevated to max alert as I can now count (8) places where the skin has cracked open.
I'd slather myself in Neosporin but it didn't work yesterday so I'll just wait for the Vasaline and gloves at home and save my keyboard the trouble.

I was told that I do such an excellent job that I have earned the treat of cleaning out a cubicle. To boost my pride, I was told that indeed this other chick did f*ck up but that we will spend an hour fixing it... oh, and btw I can't tell anyone but she is really forgetful and slow and snippy on Fridays because she has MS and its getting bad and her shots are on Thursday nights so just keep being smiley and accomodating and for Gracious Sake PLEASE let US know (and not her) when you find she jacked something up.

The cubicle I cleaned out was for a position doing what Miss Forget My Fat Stack of Misexecuted Outbox... I actually bear the battle scars of being in the position that I somehow wasn't told was open but I do have the capability to cover up the tracks of the troll who, apparently due to a medical condition, can't do her job properly.

My joy at feeling healthier comes at the price of suddenly feeling that each peice of my wardrobe has been systematically rehemed - crooked. These were my favorite jeans and now feel all cockeyed in all the most unflattering ways possible. And this top is suddenly accentuating the round of my belly area more than the round of my perfectly padded top area... very suspicious.

Also, my actual disgust (like snarled nose and gagging in the kitchenette at work as the cookie tin is passed around) at the idea of putting sugary or greasy or starchy things across my discerning palate has apparently left me with nothing to salve my personality with but spit and vinegar; strange since I don't like vinegar.

Wait, now I have (9) places where my skin refuses to do the one job of keeping my flesh INSIDE.

What The F*ck folks.
Whatdayathink? Sure, I'll admit its been long enough and its time to add some "+" or at least "=)" to my date book... but dayathink running up a bar tab and getting hit on at a dive bar will do instead? I haven't try it in a long long long long time... and its better than thinking of calling Him to add a "+".
Wait, I just puked a little. Yep, that little disgust I had for the cookie tin was only the begining of my bodys way of telling me what to stay away from. My stomach is actually turning at the idea of calling Him.
What a shame really. I was all ready to roll over and be his bitch again and he f*ckin blew it. Not really a shame for me now that I think about it. Though it will take a while for my self worth to rebuild.

Off to the gym... maybe if I work hard enough I can just toss the wardrobe instead of waiting up to discover who is jacking up all my clothes...
Then maybe I'll go to the XXX store instead of the bar and get me something I can use to shake me back into a good mood...
Or find out what my Kahlua Christmas present tastes like before its all gone...

But before all that, I have to abuse the company priviledge of providing me a great computer and incredibly fast connection of the corporate kind and ask ya'll if this picture seems fitting for me to add as my profile identifyer portrait (I have started noticing frequent commenters because of the picture that pops up next to thier name and I'm a visual person):

It won't get bigger for you viewing pleasure... but it will be smaller when it shows up anyway... leme know =)

Seriously, Its Finally Friday and I really wanted my desk cleared before I left but got SO ragingly fumed at the indignation I was subjected to over the last three days that I've spent a good hour chatting to you fine folk instead of working. Good lot of good that did, huh? But do you think my boss will ever find out/know/notice??? Lets put it this way; she was gone two hours ago. Ha. I'm out.

Ode to the Gym

There are many reasons I spend the money to drive out of my way home and torture myself physically. I have already had a few people (from work, who didn't see me for 10 consecutive days) notice how much cuter my clothes are on my constantly morphing figure. My heartrate no longer remains elevated after carrying my 48 lb dog up the stairs at night. There is no more fear that if the cat got out I could not run it down. My feet don't fall asleep while sitting at my desk anymore - they wait until I have 2 min left on the machine to begin their tingling sensations. Sleep comes upon me fierce and strong and hard. Unfortunately, the sleep is so good I refuse to acknowledge the alarm in the morning, especially if I was feeling decadent and used all the same adjectives for my bedtime activity. I love to watch the calories I'm burning tally up and think of the food I ate. Some days I burn Hershey kisses, other days the tangy sauce on my chicken taco... its fun! Of all of these reasons, I have to admit my favorite part about going to the gym is leaving. I've elevated my heartrate, pushed my muscles and my stamina, stretched and stretched and stretched until I am sure every guy in the place has seen my forehead on my kneecap(s) in every possible way to position yourself to show that off. My makeup is still flawless, the hairspray still in tact, and my perfect posture as I shimmy back to the locker room all pumped up on blood flow give me every confidence that I can wear tennies all day every day and still have a cute walk. Still... even with all of this to seduce me back into the masses of I Wanna Feel Better Because Its January F*cktarts... its not my favorite part. Its the four miles home. The music from the radio is a switch from my iWannaBeAniPodPhone, I'm sitting in a familiar seat on a familiar road driving in a familiar way. The lights from the mall across the street dance in the leaves of the trees lining the street, the turn lanes are well paved and allow me to swiftly and seamlessly pour meself onto the road home. My favorite route is lined with mansions that bear lit landscapes even without the holiday lights. There is a clear view of the freeway going over the mountain, the company I work for, and the sway of the road ahead of me beckoning me to overtake it and be home. In these few minutes, I typically talk to myself. I don't know why - I don't do it in the mornings on my way to work or at lunch breaks or on the way home if its from work or anywhere but the gym. There is something special about the end of the day and of getting oxygenated blood into every capillary in the corners of the folds of the grey matter in my skull. It may be peculiar to you, but its a kind of release I have only this evening noticed is a pattern. I pull up in front of my house, turn the key half way to the off position, wipe away a tear or four, take a deep breath and look up at the house I call home. The two dog faces are in the window most nights, I have just talked through a pressing life matter with the dashboard, and just tonight - one half hour ago - I realized that the culmination of all this is the awareness that I can do it myself... no making phone calls to decide what I want for lunch, no reaching out to have someone tell me I don't need a white russian after a workout, no need to tell Him how sad I am that I'm not in love with him anymore, no calling the roomate to see if she wants to meet for dinner. I have evolved into a person who is comfortable being by herself, doing things for herself, no longer needing moment to moment reinforcement that she is doing good... I can have a theraputic, cleansing, euphoric, baggage unloading epiphany in 8 minutes in the car alone.

My gym has helped me become this person I am proud to be today.

Jigga What?

I don't know if its the full moon, the three day weekend, the cold nights, the cloud covered days, or the general lack of umph in my step thanks to Aunt Flo taking her sweet ass time getting here... but I can't keep my mind on one single thought or project for more than 162 seconds at a time.

I had a great post idea on Sunday... its now Wednesday and I have no idea what was cool enough in my life to talk about.
I started keeping track of my $ spending and food intake and gym attendence and overall mood (indicated with the very technical "=)" or "=(" in the bottom corner of the square - right next to the "+" if I got laid and the "*" if I masturbated and the "." if that bitch Aunt Flo drops her baggage and gets all up in my space). To even look at the datebook at this point gets me looking at the plants that need to be watered, the pages of "these are the questions you will be asked in the interview" I should pick up, the novel I just finished that needs to find a place on the shelf, the hair clip stack I've built over nights of going to bed with sticks and clips and pins in my hair, the stack of clothes I've worn in the last week that I didn't get to put away or in the laundry yet, and by then the animals have spotted me standing wild eyed in the middle of my room so I'll get to pet the cat and sweet talk the dog while I'm thinking of what exactly it was I walked into the room for...
Oh, I wanted to get the phone that was ringing in my purse!!! R I G H T.
Damn I missed it.
Well, I'll do one little thing while I wait for the voicemail buzz... lets see, if I put the book away I will have a spot to write in the dayplanner but I'll have to move so much stuff on the shelf to get the book in there maybe I'll just get some water for the plant but the bottle doesn't fit in the bathroom sink so instead of going downstairs for a cup or to fill the bottle in the big sink I'll put up ONE item of clothing but the wrinkly ones are on the bottom so I should flip the stack over but then I'll forget how long its been since I wore that outfit for Sure so, well, the cat is really pushy so I should see if the food dish is empty - what is that?? Oh, the ring telling me I have a voice mail; I should see who called. Let me just pull the rings off my fingers since I'm home for the day now before I jam them in my purse... oh, look, I could file this one peice of mail with the paid bills and get SOMEthing done today in my personal realm...


This was literally my internal narrator last night.
Pamprin and Midol and IBprofin are no cure for these symptoms.
Then again, I might just be getting old enough to actually be turning into my mother.
She was like this every Saturday for years.
Crap on a Cracker, its genetic or a learned behavior or whatever way we want to say "its in ya jackhole, deal with it!"
Ah well, the cats and dogs love me... and love is all we need, right??

If you've got anything that might be interesting enough to keep my mind on for three minutes straight, I'd love the challenge!!!
Ready, Set...

Well, Its a Start

1) Notice where my sidebar is today???
Yeah, I went to update the template and got fearless and somehow I moved it up where it belongs but, um, somehow on the opposite side of the posts. Its all there and not squished into a one inch list down the side (Thank You Preview!!), so deal for now.
I might get the gumption later to play more, but -

2) I emailed that recruiter chick about wanting her help getting a permanent job here and she JUST emailed me asking for a meeting 'whenever its convenient'!!!!!! OMG - I got so excited I just farted.

3) Its Payday today - and since its a short payday due to the severely long break that bled over into my January, basically the entire thing will be going to my car payment, gas tank, and maybe for some milk and vodka to go with the kahlua I got for Christmas that somehow keeps disappearing without passing MY deserving taste buds.
Since I don't give about this position and no one has noticed if I am here or not for about 32 of the 36 hours I've put in this week, I'm thinking that get paycheck/go to bank/go home for lunch/meander back in when I am done napping in the car to the lunch time tunes afternoon I plan every Friday will have to be extended to go see this recruiter chick.

So I'm in pink jeans that I wore last weekend?? And tennies with Vegas spooge on them?? And the shirt is a little wrinkled where my body heat and the chair haven't pressed it straight yet?? Its Friday, I want a job, and darn it my makeup is great today!! I even figured out how not to blind myself with the new hairspray bottle I got Two Weeks ago =)

Its going pretty good now that I've finally finished the coffee... here's a cute pic to help you reach my level of satisfaction with the first three hours of my day:

Ain't he CUTE!!??? Don't cha just wanna meet a guy with that kind of cheery wide eyed smile today?? Wouldn't you buy that face an ice cream if he was in line behind you at the B&J Scoop Shoppe? Who knows, later today I might see this and think "lets watch him freak out and explode to 4xs his current size" but dang if he ain't cute now =)

Um? Huh? ::me finally speechless::

I tend to write my titles last, but after all this, I seriously had to take a walk.

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/1549217/posts

um… we can’t allow a few guys in San Francisco to get in on medical insurance benefits but this dolphin wedding actually happened?
Did I miss the point in time where the US was the only one not evolved enough to allow gay marriage and the rest of the world with the genital mutilation and the wearing garb over every inch of skin and the killing first born children if they are not male and the foot binding and selling their children to sweatshops was ok but somehow they have gotten onboard with the ‘marriage is based on love’ amidst all the arranged marriages and family unity between tribes and she’s the pretty one we’ll marry her for the money and the other one will work for the family store forever…
Whew, that was a helluva powerful urge to slap the monitor silly.
Marrying dolphins???? Seriously, when are the locusts coming? Lets get this “what the F*CK is this world coming to – it must mean it’s the end of the world as we know it” show on the road.

Bittersweet

I went downstairs to the cafeteria this morning to get some breakfast (a dose of protein to get the metabolism to understand it is actually time to start the day) and overhear there is another three day weekend coming our way.
Um, what????
Exqueeze me??
You didn't let me come to work for 5 paydays in Dec, or the first payday in Jan, and now you're "giving me another day off"??
Is it just to royally hose my budgeted income????
Or are you really trying to punish me for that last meal in Vegas?
F*ckin permanent employees are all jazzed that they get paid to garden or sunbathe or go shopping while us temps hide from the world for the rest of the month because we are short on cash and have PLENTY of time to think about it since we aren't at work all that much... hosers.

I remember loving to hear of days off - but if they don't ask me to work soon, I'm going to forget what wearing heels feels like... what a button up looks like... if a collar belongs on a shirt... how to deal with hairspray... how to wear jewelry... all the things that make a corporate job fun in the mornings!!!!
I LIKED getting dressed, knowing I would be asked difficult questions and have time sensitive projects coming to me for completion for the entire department to 'ohhh' and 'ahhh' and 'ain't she the best' over me about.
With all this UNPAID vacation time you "give me", I can barely muster the will to put on jeans in khaki instead of blue or wash my hair for the amount of 'work' you ask of me.

So with all this work ethic going to waste, I've applied to another handful of jobs ALL MORNING.
I'll be stopping off at the temp agency I work for at lunch (not DURING lunch, but as a tag along 'appointment') to see if they can offer me anything besides more of the same and asking what the punishment is for leaving before the 6 month contract is up.
THEN I will ponder the possibility of completely changing fields and job requirements and mindsets about who I am, how I operate, and how I make money so as to completely mentally and spiritually prepare myself for applying for this position I saw posted - a seminar coming up in a few weeks that you have to offer your resume before they reserve you a seat.
Apparently they will take you in and train you for two years before asking you to do the job on your own. Sounds scary, but so does sitting in front of a filing cabinet for the rest of my life!!

Maybe a nice stack of veggies and some teriaki will settle my nerves. Yes, I know its just an application to go to an informational seminar... but I'm PMSing and the whole world is crashing down on me and my upcoming three day weekend and its SCARY to think about changing the direction of your life!!!
Try it.
I dare you.
Think of traveling in Africa on a dirt road in a Wrangler tracking the migratory patterns of animals that could eat you as an apartif - for your job.
Think of moving into your office because the bitch down the hall might be up for the same promotion you are and you have to be there before and after every associate on the floor.
Think of hating everything about your every day schedule but doing it because it looks great on your Resume of Life... shopping, botox, gym, lypo - all to impress people who are so self absorbed they don't notice your efforts... up and out to take the kids to school so you can get to all your social meetings and clean house and cook for the clan before you pick them up and take them to thier well-rounded after school activities - mewhile wishing you could be studying for your Masters so your spouse doesn't confuse you by talking in AdultSpeak... or sitting in an 18 square foot cube of grey waiting for another stack of filing to crowd you in the back corner just so you can afford to eat and make car payments and have a place to call home-of-the-moment - just because everyone tells you that if you think of the money the boredom will be worth it...

Just think about completely revolutionizing your view of your individual talents and gifts and graces of personality.
Think of abandoning all your work experience and diving two feet first into a field you have only seen in the movies - and they made fun of it.
Think of knowing how the corporate world is raping you of your dignity and choosing to consider years of training to solidify your position in the rat race.
Then add a fear of commitment, decision making, 5 year goal planning, and the knowledge that there are other ways to make money if the mind is in it.
Oh, then add PMS, a lack of social life or support, compound that with the idea that 'its just an idea to kick around' and the general blah mindset that comes with lack of sunshine...
See, its SCARY right???

Maybe not this bad...
But the magnitude of even THINKING life could go in a completely different direction is profound.
The last time I radically changed the direction of my life, I ended up LOVING it.
And Him.
That hurt. A Lot. And Still Does.
Would I do it again?
Well, thats the question of the day, isn't it????
Was the positive outcome worth the pain and struggle and strength and power I've amassed since?
You know... its just a seminar. Its not like I will be commiting to the new life. Just hearing about it. Hang on, I gotta send my resume real quick -

I Screwed Up

My blog that is.
Notice the sidebar starts after all the posts.
Its not a sidebar anymore, its a thing-at-the-side-of-the-bottom-of-the-scroll-bar-with-all-the-cool-links-bar.
Help??
I added the moon phases to the bottom of it and ever since it hasn't sat right next to the posts, but below them - but still on the right side of the screen. I suck at reading code and KNOW I didn't write over "keep it on the side" with "moon phase graphic"...
Curmudgeon was nice enough to point out where to add my profile photo... I have yet to pick one that suites me but the help on finding it was incredibly wonderful to recieve.
Perhaps there is a reader lurking who has battled adding a background picture, or header picture, WITHOUT messing with the locations of where the pictures go???
Much thanks in advance,
Sassy

Disgust

What is that switch in the brain that throws someone into a depression?

I was happy-go-lucky yesterday afternoon, got a sunshine break with the fire drill in my building (Thank You whoever insisted they could pop the last kernal in the bag, much appreciated), even got some headway on the project I have been avoiding since the beginning of December.

So What The F*ck happened??? I left the building right at 6pm, like a good girl, even though I thought I'd never make it (Thank You blog rollers, your sidebars kept me in my seat for an hour!!) - so it couldn't have been that I felt all guilt ridden for being a bad employee (no, sitting on blogs for the last hour of the day doesn't make me feel like a crappy employee.)

There was a disconnect somewhere. A wire fell loose, a short in the circuts, a missing link in the code.
I drove home, pet the dogs, put my purse on the counter, cracked a beer, THEN took my shoes off, went upstairs to put on PJ pants and take the bra off, made it back downstairs to sit in front of the TV and wait for the Tivo to kick in. I looked at the beer - half gone already.
An hour later I was passed out on the couch.
I woke up at 8pm. Plenty of time to get to the gym. I thought about it. But instead cracked another beer and it was finished before the first commercial of whatever show I was watching.
I still didn't get to bed before midnight.
Four beers and a pile of edemame for dinner left me with what I hoped would cure me - a good heartfelt cry with no mental processes fueling it.

Um, no. Didn't work. I am in a funk today. I don't want to work. I don't want to read blogs. I don't want to prance by the cuties office. I don't want to chit chat with the girls. I don't want to call my friends or family. I just want to go home and sit in the sun and read a book and look at the dogs and sit and sit and sit and stare at nothing and let this funk work its way out of my subconscious and into the real thoughts so I can do something about it.

Or maybe its just that the moon is filling up rather quickly and this is just another fantastic new side effect I will try to cure with Midol. In any case, I feel like an imposter in pale pink and perfect makeup. And of all the things I can think to do, only being alone in my sadness sounds good.
Do I fight it and spend time with people? Knowing they will most likely contribute to my low-ness?? Knowing that on most days their conversations and witty banter would be fun but today perhaps just more ammunition to feel disgusted? Knowing that I have become the person everyone bitches to, complains to, whines at, seeks out for advice, or ignores until they are in the mood for one of these?

Maybe what I need is a trick to throwing yourself into my work. Can I just copy and staple and hole punch my way to a better day? Can I sing a mantra for 10 minutes and focus on finding a new job that doesn't feel like a prison of badly timed check-ins and stinky cubemates?

If I could just rush to the horny part of PMS, I think I might be alright. Maybe I can force myself to get off today and push some endorphines into the blood stream. Perhaps a trip home for lunch and a mindset to get the job done and LIKE IT... maybe then I'll knock loose the lame funk that has its grip on my Tuesday.

Even the thought of masterbating isn't a good one... seriously, WTF is the matter here???

Weekend Wonderings

How is it possible to have hurt one's big toe enough to have it sore for a day and begin bruising at the end of a second... without a mark on the shoe or toe to lend a clue as to what happened to cause the lingering pain??

Is there an old addage along the lines of "if someone offers you gum/mint/parsley/muzzle, take it" that applys to the use of getting rid of noisy inhabitants of the nose??

Since when is bahklava not a substantial source of calories; namely, if it is so filling, how can it not soak up alcohol?

Are there special stores that the aged know of that sell Honey Pepper Vodka and Chocoate Chip Cookie liqour that I can get on the Do Tell list about?
Similarly, how do gay guys know how to dress a table, prepare a platter, and make a tuna sandwich a beautiful addition to a hors de vours spread without any formal training or addiction to any of the numerous How To channels?

Who taught my dog to wake up at 7:30am only on the days that I don't have to be at work? And why didn't they tell her the roomates are just as capable of opening the back door for her? And how is it that if I acknowledge her and explain that mommy has a headache induced by sugar and a poorly timed drink switch and that she will be up when her head stops fighting with her, does it make said loveable sweet wonderful life companion of a mutt interpret it to be lick-mommy-in-the-face-until-the-ears-get-rubbed-and-all-the-rest-of-the-four-indoor-animals-come-in-and-say-hi-to-mommy-too-Day? Hmm? Was it you???

They blame everything on genes these days... is there a say as to the genetically predispositioned night owl yet? And does staying up past midnight every night for three weeks (with or without Vegas or Gay Birthday Parties as a reason) make it a habit or an acknowledgement of my truest self?

Is Bugs Butt right with this list, namely #18?? Is He really less of an anomoly of weakness in my life and more a bonding point for me to understand the rest of my female kind? And as for #10, should I stop thinking I deserve to make a decent wage and be glad I have upgraded to real noodles from Ramen in a mere 5 years after graduating?

Who ever said "its a cold day in January..." isn't from So. Cal. I was in my bikini tanning at 10am. [insert raspberry zerbit here]
I almost had to put on a sweater last night, but the warm breeze kept the house just above that chill factor.
[yes, I'm just rubbing it in now. Deal.]



How many hours do you have to be awake between naps for it not to be considered a "slept the day away" kinda day? Does hangover stupor count as sleep?

After almost politely telling a work guy 'it ain't gonna happen", is there any reason why I can't meander to a few offices up from his and blatently engage in conversation with the guy I would LOVE to have a Happy Hour drink with and get to know better (since he's finally in town and engages me in conversation whenever he can?)

If you sleep in PJs that cover all your skin except feet, hands, and face... is it really that big a deal to forget your sheets in the dryer and roll up in the expensive-as-two-mani/pedi-days-to-dry-clean comforter? Or are sheets the magic barrier to keep the dust mites off the why-is-it-$2-for-my-fave-shirt-but-this-blanket-costs-WHAT$$$$????? blankets with or without PJs?

If I just keep asking random questions, with the time between todays fire drill that killed any ambition I had to work and the time I can officially run out the door seem smaller than if I just stare at the graining of the grey cloth walls?

If I leave my computer on but leave the building, will anyone be able to tell that I won't be back tonight???
bwaaa haa haa... I think I found a dare I can follow through on!!!!

OK, I just found this site on a blogroll and have scammed a few of my faves... the cool stuff I've been posting has mostly been from PostSecret.com, then there are the everywhere-and-up-my-inbox-too kind (see above) but these little gems are gonna be from CuteOverload.com... and since I can't think of a blog that would use this one - and it is Just So Cute - I'll share it with you now:

What...

is a girl supposed to do with this??

Subject : That...
Text: was fun. Want to do it again sometime?
R

Its a guy I gave the same curtious smile to in the halls of Cubeville I give everyone and is apparently lonely or desperate enough to not notice when I turn my attentions to someone I actually want to talk to that I add a wink and a REAL smile and maybe a touch on the arm.
I'm a flirt. I know it. Shut up. Whatever adds to the smile factor of life, I say.

So he finds me in the corporate directory, emails me "whats up? ", I say work and lunch, he says "I've gotta take a break, I'm leaving for lunch in 5 min, wanna come? My treat."
I didn't answer.
He called my desk.
I didn't answer.
I left my desk and hid in the filing cabinets on the other side of the building.
No, I'm not kidding!!!
I came back 10 min later to find a stack of work being left on my desk... so as I chat about the details my phone rings again... she tells me to get it.
Its him and I pretend I didn't see the email and he's walking past my desk and he asks if I want free lunch and I don't know how to say no AT ALL so we hopped in his red convertable Boxter and take off for sandwiches and I am polite and he is smiling with food in his teeth and I am trying to keep a conversation going because that is what I do and he is being interested because he is actually interested...
Ugh. UUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Now I have avoided the MINUTE WE GOT BACK email from above for an afternoon and a morning and I am sure he will be more than a little butthurt when I don't stop by his office on my way by... and I have to pass when I go see my boss...
What am I supposed to do????
I mentioned I was in Vegas over the weekend with a guy and he rolled the conversation a different way.
I said I like my life as full as it is and he says he has plenty of relaxation time.
He is old and way fat and almost boring and flaunts his money and has an uncomfortable laugh and I am not AT AAAALLLLLLLLLLL interested... but yet somehow I feel bad that he thinks of me enough to look me up and invite me out and he got me the chocolates for Christmas and I thought it was nice to say thanks with a smile and NOW LOOK!

Stupid bright smile. Causing all kinds of trouble these days.

Yes, I know I'm being cranky. And overanalyzing. Whatever.
Check out the new moon meter I added to my sidebar... whenever the picture is filling in, I will be a freak. Whats it to ya?

Seriously, any advice would be great.

And yes, I'm talking to You - mot, lbb, viewfinder, doggrrrl, monty, curmudeon, riley, ariel (if you still pop in)... and the rest of you I don't have a post from in a while.

When I asked my best friend (no she doesn't read the blog even though I gave her the link) what she thought, I got:

Oh so that's how lunch went.....well....I hope Vegas was fun. Talk to you this weekend. C

She said she was burnt out, but this sounds a little judgmental to me. Catholic much, C???

Oh, and if it was joked that I wouldn't hear from Him when we got back from Vegas and its now becoming reality, exactly how many days is acceptable for not getting a return phone call before I can leave an honest yet BYOTCHY message along the lines of "you wanted to stay in the room and bond with me and you told me I have your respect - well, if you respected me at all you'd at least give me a 'I am going to hibernate for a week or two, I'll call you when I'm done' message because if you knew me at all you'd see you are killing me with a cliffhanger of a drive home conversation and then nothing. I know you've heard me telling you what irks me these last months; don't pretend you didn't hear how hurt I was that my sister withdrew from me. I just want to be friends and don't know how to let you suffer without wanting to help. F*ckin call me back and tell me what happened or don't look surprised when I don't want to see you again."

I'd love some help with this one too.

And my boss just walked into my cube and saw me posting with stacks of work in front of me.
Fantastic.
Time to search for new work again!!
Qualudes anyone?? Zanex?? Maybe some antihystimines or Nyquil will calm me a bit... ttys,

Naughty or Nice?

A New Day

Though I have work to do - five stacks all lined up in priority order leading to the very organized but severly neglected Pendaflex organizer box of all the stuff I avoid doing on a regular (by that I mean daily) basis - I am so overwhelmingly proud of myself I had to chat about it.

I just got an email saying "Congrats, your resume was recieved and is being reviewed!"
OK, I know its a stock email sent every time your email was opened by the recipient. Still, I applied for a job!!!! Of course this makes this job even more tedious, but to have the time to apply for new positions while carrying off some semblence of doing this slack jaw job is quite an honor. I was actually paid to look for a way out of here!

And I avoided chowing on the conference room left overs =) Stashed some virginia ham and provolone cheese rolled in lettuce with a few cherry tomatoes in my sandwich bag of a half a turkey sandwich on wheat that was the rest of my lunch I will want in a few hours... and left the entire plate of every kind of scrumptious looking but fatty tasting semi stale cookies for the other saps to groan about their wastelines over. These jeans are having a hard time staying up and By Golly I've got the Gumption to donate them by the time the warm weather comes.

Ahhhhh... you know when your at the tippy top of the roller coaster and you know the clickclickclickclick of the climb is over and your are suspended at the top of something you can't quite see? That euphoria that the anxiety is over and there is nothing left to do by lean back and breathe before the rush of whats next hits you? You can't see it yet, but your on the track and have waited this long and there will be an exhilerating pay off soon?? Thats what I feel like right now.

Back to the file cabinets - but I told you I was on my way to greater things, didn't I!!??!?!

What I did on my Vacation, by Miss Sassy

Remember those essays we had to write in pencil on that muted brown lined paper with the faint blue dotted line in the middle to teach us where the Ts are supposed to get crossed??
When I was trying to get my brain to work at work this morning, and kept getting interupted by people wanting to vaugely chat about trips and presents, I pictured standing up in front of my coworkers with that dingy looking paper and reciting my essay:
~~imagine a 6 year old voice wrapped in a dirty blonde pony tail with bangs, pink frilly skirt, socks with lace, and mary janes standing firmly on her two feet and looking up after every period~~

This Christmas Break was great.
My family talked to me and was glad I didn't hate them enough to avoid their calls.
I got all the presents I wanted and my favorite is the teddy bear I didn't know I would get.
I slept a lot. I read most of my new book. I watched not very much TV.
There were no fights at my house and all the mud the rain made didn't get into my room.
My bank account is still positive and that makes me feel good.
My drive out of town was great. My drive into town was wet. The time out of town was perfect.
I am not glad to be back but I know vacations are not supposed to be forever or else they would be called 'reality' and not 'vacations'.
I can't wait until Spring Break now because now I know how to go play with my friends and it sounds like that is the next time you will let me have a vacation.
The End.

For the rest of us, the rest of the story:

After enough intoxicants to kill a mini Clidesdale EACH, I realized that I do have a real friend in Him and that my needful desire just to be near him dimishes with every self assuring act I commit. There is nothing quite like seeing earned respect in the eyes of the person looking at you... except continuing to earn it by being a great friend at every turn.
I am completely distracted with thoughts of a friend and will continue to use up company post-its in order to free my mental space to read and understand the pages I am supposed to be filing.
I realized that I really have no growth potential at my current position with this company and that made me sad to have to come back here. I was on time this morning anyway.
I know I have no reason to complain because I will cash my paycheck on my lunch but I was reminded of how AWSOME I am at working with people over the break and to be stuck filing today makes my heart ache - literally, I have a pain in my chest when I look at what I am supposed to do today.
Somehow I was completely fine the entire weekend on three hours at a time of sleep and the numbing effect of this place has my measly 8 HOURS from last night in an exhausted stupor the like of which I had forgotten were possible - impressive considering the weekend I think.



Oh, and if you ever get the chance, the Tropicana has fantastic rooms with mirrors on the wall next to the bed and behind the woodwork that makes up the headboard... that continues up and over the length of the bed... aaaaahhhhhh endorphines, my little neuro friends, come and replenish the joy that was present in those egomaniacal moments of seduction and carnal desire...