Fill out the card. I’ll check him out to you for a week, but then he has to resume walkin’ around nekkid in my dreams.
The new coworker who sits in the next cube externalizing what should be internalized. She edits documents and talks about it the whole time:
“OK, let’s see…oh, boy look at that! OK, Edit, Delete. There! OK, change *the process which enables the system changes * to the System Change Process…OK, select, Edit, type the System Change Process…Oh, crap, I forgot to add a comma, OK, there!” ad nauseum.
shutupshutupshutupJUST.SHUT.UP!
Just a week? Fine.
But he might not be up to walking after I’m done with him. 
Orlando Bloom is 29? Okay, I don’t feel quite so dirty now. Phew. 
Back on topic.
The tray in the toaster oven is dirty and I can’t get it clean. I’ve scrubbed it with an SOS pad, but it’s just … icky.
My car seems to be an giant bird poop magnet. Every day, it has a new plop of bird shit on it. The worst ones are the ones that hit the side and drip down.
It reminds me of that Far Side where you see the world from the bird’s-eye view, and everything has a target on it. I swear the roof of my car must have, “This one! Hit this one!” written on it in Bird.
I had my wisdom teeth out on Wednesday, and I ran out of the Codeine pills they gave me this morning. I’ve been scraping by on Tylenol, but dammit, I don’t want to ache any more! I want to feel like I’m tingly and floating two feet above the bed like I did yesterday! GIMME DRUGS! GIMME DRUGS!
Three times now people have e-mailed me about items I have for sale on craigslist: I e-mailed them back, saying “great, here’s when I’ll be home, let me know when you want to pick it up* and I’ll send you directions,” and I never heard from them again. I need to get rid of this stuff (the movers come in less than a week), and it’s starting to piss me off. At least send a courtesy, “Sorry, I’m not interested anymore” e-mail, you know? One chick even asked me to call her cell phone, then never called me back!
*Yes, it is clearly stated in my ads that the items must be picked up. These are people who write and effectively say, “I want it! When can I have it?” and then drop off the face of the earth. Next stop: eBay, where they have to take it if they’re the highest bidder.
I’m on a new medication that makes me yawn incessantly. (No, that’s not why I’m taking it, that’s just a side effect). It’s not like it gives me cramps or headaches or heart attacks . . . But constant yawning is both annoying and socially embarrassing (“Oh, am I boring you?”).
Freecycle. I get so grrrrrrrrrrrrrr’d at some of the idiots who post on there. The theory is, you have usable stuff you want to get rid of - you post it, someone asks for it and you make arrangements for pickup or delivery. I got Mr. SCL a nice telescope yesterday from Freecycle. I looked it up when I got it home and it retails for about $135, so I got a good deal. I gave the nice lady (who has cats and is also a pagan 
a jar of strawberry-fig jam and a handmade bracelet to say thank you.
Now to the grrrrrrrrr part. All the “wanted” posts. The last one to really piss me off was "wanted - birthing box - we want to breed our dog and need a birthing box and pads for it. WTF? If you can’t afford to buy or make a birthing box, how are you going to afford wormings & shots for the puppies? Oh, weren’t planning on that? I hate irresponsible backyard breeders.
“Wanted - baby grand piano”. WTF? I know a few small churches that would love a baby grand. Do you have a clue how much those things cost?
“Wanted - infant stuff” - another WTF? “I just had a baby and I need diapers, formula, clothes, furniture, a father for it…” If you weren’t financially able to take care of a child, why did you allow yourself to become pregnant? You can get birth control at the Health Dept. for free.
I’m sure I’ll have more later, but a certain chain crafts store is having a bead sale, and I must go spend money on beads.
This irk is 50-50 split between crappy roads and a VW Jetta. Damn it, why can’t I drive 50 freakin’ miles without having a pothole in the road knock my alignment out of whack? Why can’t the state actually fix these damn roads so that they don’t have pot holes that could double as tank traps??? Everytime it goes out and I want to get it fixed, I get crap from my wife starting with ‘you had to buy a Jetta’, so most of the time I just put it off. Consquently, on my commute to and from work, the steering wheel vibrates faster and harder than a woman’s vibrator on the ‘Johnny Depp’ setting.
This is Not Farvegnugen!!!
Is it for high blood pressure? My dad says his HBP pills put him on queer street every day. He finally started taking them at night but it’s not helping much.
Was that your father I saw on Queer Street the other day?
Eve, I was waiting for that.
Another annoyance–it’s still not time to go home.
-
“Aunt Flo” has been especially mean this week, and I am somewhat anemic right now.
-
I had to go to 3 different gas stations today because the first one was crowded, the second one had a suspicious element in a crummy car on the other side of the pump island where I was parked; and a cop pulled in and told me I should leave “because it would be safer if you did.” :eek:
That was him – in that adorable twin set and the fabulous spectator pumps.
Dear job:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I HATE YOU! GO TO HELL! BURN! A POX ON YOU ALL! ESPECIALLY MY BOSS, CO-WORKERS, AND THE CUSTOMERS!
(yes, I’m quitting. I’m planing on giving my notice today, actually. We’ll see if I actually get up the courage to do it, though.)
My stomach hurts, and I don’t know why. I’m also hungry, but because my stomach hurts nothing actually appeals to me. I’m also worried that whatever I eat will just make my stomach hurt more.
A couple days ago I came into work and one of the team leads met me in the hallway. He asked me, “Do you know where my team lead meeting is being held?” Like, why the FUCK would I know this, being that I am not a team lead myself?! He’s not new or anything, so I can’t understand why he would expect me to know this.
Ummmm where *exactly * could we find this road??
Please?
CARPOOL!
ROADTRIP!
Sigh…we’re just a bunch of pathetic sluts. 