Wednesday - good vs. bad

Will asks me each night, "How was your day today?"  I either tell him it sucks, or it was fine.  He often presses me, "so nothing special happened today, you didn't take hostages?"  I usually say, "no."  Today nothing special happened, but I thought I would break it down anyway.  We will compare the good vs. the bad points, just to be fair.

Good - My hair looked good when I left the house.
Bad - By the time I got to work, hair not so great.  My pal Cassie at work has super short hair that she wears all spikey every single day and she uses a product called "Sticky Gum" in her hair.  Nothing, and I do mean nothing, is going to ruin her hair day.  We call her hair orgasmic for a reason. She  tells me I am too critical of my hair, but again, she could sky dive and still not have a hair out of place.

Good - The fly that was in the process of dying in the light fixture over my desk yesterday, driving me nuts with the "zzzzzt....zzzzzzt........zzzzzzt,"  seems to have finally died.
Bad - Now I have that stupid Christmas song, "....There's something up the chimney and I don't know what it is, but it's been there since last Christmas..." stuck in my head.  The fly in agony would have been a refreshing change.  See, be careful what you wish for. (to be clear, I haven't heard that song in a long time, so why it is there now, no one knows)

Good - Gretchen brought Kiss Cookies and I ate two.
Bad - Gretchen brought Kiss Cookies and I ate two.

Good - I didn't have to tell anyone to go to hell today.
Bad - This unused, bottled up energy is going to compound and gain strength like a hurricane.  By Friday, I could end up telling someone to "F - off."

Good - I didn't cry today.
Bad - I ate a lot of chocolate, possibly as a direct result.  I'm now out of chocolate.  This is a problem.

Good - I asked the VP for a credit limit increase on my corporate card up to $25K.
Bad - I don't think she is on board with this plan.

Bad - Traffic sucked on the way home and I didn't pee before leaving.
Good - First, I didn't pee my pants.  Second, I listened to Enya so the dumb-asses were less annoying. Third, when traffic did finally break up, it was really good the car directly behind me was not a cop, because I went 70mph in a 60mph.

Good - Will is making dinner.
Bad - It's something with hamburger and potato chips.  Like Mom always said, "if you got hamburger and you got potato chips...you got a meal!"

Good - Everyone is getting into the Christmas spirit at work.
Bad - Everyone is getting into the Christmas spirit at work.  Within a few days it is going to look like Christmas threw up all over the place in there and I am powerless to stop it. My boss still wants enough snowflakes made for everyone in the center.  Can we fast forward to January, please?

Good - One of my bosses is out of the office all this week.  The other boss is out tomorrow and Friday.
Bad - I'm probably going to be making more of those freakin snowflakes the rest of the week in their absence instead of doing something fun, like Jib Jab.

So, that sums it up, not earth shattering, but my day in a nutshell.  So, next time I say my day was "fine" maybe we can leave it at that.

Good -  Time to go feed the ponies...they are waiting.  Bad - Will has the remote.  Bad - He is watching Family Guy. 

Outside I go....

Toilet Paper, it's important

It was a long weekend. We travelled over to Will's parents, which is about a 5-6 hour drive in the winter.  We arrived no worse for the wear and had a nice time.  I made peanut butter balls for the in-laws since last year I didn't make them any and this has not been forgotten.  In my defense, I did make them last year...Will and I just ate them before I could get them packaged up and mailed. So, I have now fulfilled this year's obligation.  I also left my Mother-in-law a special gift.  I won't comment on it now since I don't know if she has found the gift yet, or if she will read this before she does, but let's just not talk about it.  I will say it isn't the kind of gift that my dog leaves me when I leave him loose in the house, but she may or may not enjoy this gift.

In other news, on the way home, in Wenatchee, at Jack-in-the-Box, I had a rather annoying experience.  I'm so going to call that customer service survey hotline.  I go into the bathroom and first of all, having to get greased up to get in the stall is demerit number one.  I mean, what the hell is a matter with these places, you are serving fattening, fast food.  Your clientele is not the contestants on America's Next Top Model.  Your clientele is from the Biggest Loser. Then, demerit number two, I almost got bucked off the toilet seat because they believe in a loose fit on the seats in there.  I'm a freakin rodeo champion, I rode it out for more than eight seconds. Demerit number three, toilet paper.  Thank goodness I wasn't having the problems of the gal in the handi-capped stall, because the toilet paper was so thin, everytime I grabbed it, it ripped.  I've seen spider webs that were thicker than that toilet paper.  I was having an all out rodeo with the toilet paper dispenser trying to get a full sheet off that freakin roll. I finally got a few squares off and took care of things.  I don't know what that gal was going to do in the handi-capped stall.  There was no way she was ever going to get enough paper off to take care of that problem. I think this is why public bathrooms are a mess.  I think this is why I look at them and think, "what the hell happened in here?"  What happened in there is that some poor soul couldn't get enough paper and had to wipe their ass all over the seat and the wall.  This is why hand sanitizer...and hazmat suits are so vital to survival in this day and age.

I am exhausted.  Time to start another work week.  Tomorrow is another new hire day at work.  Time for badge pictures and general chaos.  Hip hip hooray.

A little something about nothing

It's been a long day. I'm not going to go over the details of the day as it wasn't anything exciting enough to blog about really.  I mean, there were some moments when my head almost spun around, but this is pretty standard.  Par for the course, as they say. I put out some fires, made some snowflakes, passed out some gift cards, had to run to Target to purchase more gift cards....blah, blah, blah. 

They are rotating in a new side-kick for me for the month of December.  She is very nice. I've been told she is shy and that this will be a good opportunity to bring her out of her shell.  I told her today, "I'll just treat you like a turtle...you know, if a turtle's head gets stuck in the shell, we'll just poke our thumb up your butt and your head will pop out."  I don't really know if she appreciated this analogy, but if nothing else, I am an eloquent communicator. I told her by the end of the month she would be tougher.  She says she has a high tolerance for whining and stupidity.  We shall see my young apprentice...we shall see.

Had to go the long way home tonight since the little town I drive through is flooded thanks the bleepity, bleep, bleepin rain.  I'm finally here, relaxed, decompressing while browsing FB, and I look over at the couch and there is my beloved, passed out, snoring.  Now, Will and I have a rule, no blackmail pictures, no posting without permission, no sneak attacks on Facebook with photo's.  Because of this, let me describe to you the vision on my couch.  It's my man.  He is sporting his brown lounge pants with a large salmon print, a Big Dog shirt with some saying about how he isn't a freakin' people person, thick socks and camo-print slippers.  His legs are all sprawled out, kind of in sitting position, his body is slumped to the side, his head is in an unnatural position, mouth is open and he has a pile of wiener dogs on his crotch.  He's snoring.  He is a vision of all I fell in love with. Some Redneck Rocket Scientist show is on TV in the background.  If I touch the remote, he will wake up.  Afterall, he's watching that. I would just like to say, as a disclaimer, I am no sleeping beauty when found in my natural habitat of fleece sheets and pony pj's in a semi comatose state, but right now, I'm the one taking in the scene and I have to say to myself...thank goodness this image was not his profile picture when we met on-line over 7 years ago.  If he would just let me post the occasional picture, I wouldn't have to have these kinds of dialogs.

I think it's time to pull the plug on how to make a rocket airplane thing and get sleeping beauty to bed.  Here's to hoping tomorrow has something more exciting in store.

Bleepity Bleep Bleepin Rain...

It's 4:30AM and I'm up.  This is unfortunate, because this guarantees crabbiness.  Why are you up, you may ask?  Well, this damn, driving, pounding, unrelenting rain has made me toss and turn all night long. How am I supposed to sleep when the rain is so loud on the roof?  How am I supposed to sleep when I heard gushing water all night. It makes me have to pee, and then when I am not making a trip to the bathroom, I'm having some sort of psychotic dreams.

I can't see Angry Pony from the road anymore when I drive by, but I am sure he is standing in his pen pissed off.  And with good reason.  This rain is B.S.

At this point, I hope someone is building an ark.  My poor dogs have probably not pee'd in 3 days.  I force them out in the driving  rain, their backs hunched up, they look at me like I am Cruella De Ville  and walk a few steps, then stare at me with their heads down, glaring.  They can't pee in these conditions.  Don't even talk about pooping. And, while my horses do have a barn, I'm going to have to go purchase floaties for them.  Where their pasture once was is now an "open swim" area. 

I don't want to have to drive in this rain either.  People cannot function in these conditions. They either drive 45mph on the freeway, or they drive like a Nascar champion.  No winning there.  I'm watching the news, so far, no idiots have caused major catastrophes, but it is early....

I'm not doing my hair today either. Why bother. I may drag out my pink pony rubber boots today...if only they came in hip waders...anyway, this is apparently becoming a bitch fest, so maybe I need to go chew on some cereal...

To my work friends...don't. poke. the. bear.  You have been warned.

When Snowflakes make people attack...

Today a lot of people irritated me.  No, let me just come out and say it, they pissed me off.  For example, I'm at my desk, eating my lunch, with my pal, Val.  Now, my bad for eating at my desk, but, I was taking a quick lunch, so figured I could get away with it.  I'm sitting there, eating, and this guy comes up and says, "hi."  I look at him in utter annoyance and say, "is there something I can help you with?"  He says, "well, I can see you are eating, so I guess I won't bother you."  I looked at him and said, "good plan."  I thought this would take care of the little problem...and by little problem, I mean him.  Nope, he just stands there with this stupid look on his face and stares at me.  I stare back.  I blink.  I take another bite of my burger.  He is unaffected by the mental telepathy I am sending to him that says, "drop dead."  Now, I ask you, why would anyone interfere with a fat girl eating her lunch?  Why? If you add the word "bitchy" to the sentence, it makes it even more unfathomable.  Finally, I say, with irritation and exasperation, "is it just a quick question?"  He then asked me a series of dumb questions, to which, he already had the answers to.  Because of this, I felt the need to be semi-snotty, yet still PC, in my responses.  It was the equivalent to walking up to someone and saying, "I see your shirt is blue, can you confirm that?"  I don't have time for this kind of stupidity.  Finally, he left.

Now, I'd like to turn my attention to the afternoon festivities.  Someone at work, who shall remain nameless, has decided we need to make these paper snowflakes for everyone in the center...about 250 of them.  We did this last year and it did look really cool, but a few folks worked on them after hours and in between projects.  This year, it has been decided, that we need to make them before Thanksgiving, which is the day after tomorrow.  Now, these snowflakes take about 5-10 minutes or more, per snowflake, to make.  It's time consuming.  No worries, we'll do them at the staff meeting today.  I"m sure the managers won't mind making them, right?

Let me just tell you how a room full of adults can make a class of grade-schoolers look skilled....and mature.  Give the adults paper, scissors, staplers and tape.  Show them how to make the snowflakes and then wait for it....wait for it....THERE IT IS...the whining has begun.  "I don't know how to do this."  "Why are we doing this?" "Oh sure, we are on a budget and can't order supplies, but we can make paper snowflakes."  "I can't figure this out."  "This stapler doesn't work."  "These scissors are hurting my hand." "I don't have any tape, how come there isn't enough tape for everyone?"  In the meantime, over all the paper wrestling, rustling, and whining, a staff meeting is being attempted.  The only saving grace was that I had an appointment and needed to leave.  I grabbed my stapler, because, no one was going to steal my stapler, and left.  I wanted to slap half of them tell some of the others to go sniff some glue. 

I wait and wait for the elevator to come.  There are two, but only one works.  The building guy insists the other one works, but no one has seen it open for months, so we have to wait forever for the one that does. The building guy can also go sniff some glue for all I care.  I get out of the elevator, where I am  greeted by employees with Nerf guns sitting on hay bales (which I brought in from home) shooting at turkeys that my "sales coordinator" assistant spent over half a day making.  Yes, I do work in a corporate environment.


I just have to say, it's good that my appointment was to see a therapist because, I really needed to talk to someone that wasn't wasting my time, whining or trying to shoot me with Nerf bullets. But wait, more good news, tomorrow....tomorrow, I will be making snowflakes all day.  Sing it with me, "99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around...98 bottles of beer on the wall....

Where is my intern when I need her?

Heat Leaches

Sometimes when Will leaves for work on Saturdays he likes to put the dogs in bed with me.  Spanky, of course, is already there because he has the ability to get up on the bed himself, but the other two clowns need assistance.  Since it was 27 degrees this morning, Will decided it was a good opportunity for the dogs to "snuggle" with me. 

Usually, I sleep on my side, so Spanky attaches himself to my belly and Chip and Lilly attach themselves to either side of my legs.  This is great, we are one organism.  I,  being the pre-warmed heat provider, and the little wiener dogs being the heat sucking leaches. This little co-existence is fine until the leaches reach full heat.  Then they begin to cook me like bacon on a hot skillet. I try to roll over, but I can't, I have dead weight surrounding me and they are unaffected by my needs.  I finally manage to roll to my back and do a scissor maneuver with my legs to get the leaches off of me.  I begin to relax and cool down just a smidge, when I realize it is time to rotate back over on my side.  I go to do so, but the leaches have moved back in and are once again affixed to my body.  I roll over, the dogs reposition.  Now, I still have Spanky at my belly and one of the others has decided to take up residency just under my ass.  I pause to wonder if I passed some sort of really bad gas, if it would run the dogs out from under the covers like it runs me out of the room when they do it.  Sadly, my stomach isn't in any sort of distress, so I have no ammo in the chamber.

And so the cycle goes on until the baby leach, Spanky, decides it's time to get up, at which point, he pops out of the covers, walks to the end of the bed, climbs on my feet and walks his way up my body until he is laying on my chest just nano fractions from my face.  He is staring at me and wagging his tail.  I hear the "thump, thump, thump" of his happy tail on my belly.  Then Chip climbs out and sits next to my shoulder and stares at me like he is trying to hypnotize me with his bulgy eye stare.  He is also shaking for affect.  Exactly how does one sleep through the little leaches when they do this?  Lilly is no where to be found because she is at the bottom of the bed under the covers hoping to not be detected.  She would sleep in that bed all day if allowed.

And so, it's time to get up.  Sleeping in too long on the weekends is over-rated anyway, I guess. I wouldn't know, for sure, thanks to the leaches.

TGIF! Adventures of the love wand and pink unicorns

The phrase TGIF could not be more true than it was today.  Thank goodness it's Friday.  Why, I woke up giddy and excited for the day! (insert the sound of a needle dragging across a record)  If you know me, you know that statement is a bunch of capital B, capital S.

Let's cut through the crap, I had to get up extra early and be at the doctor for a "girlie" ultrasound.  That's right, by 6:15am, I was to have consumed 32 oz of water and then drive my merry ass to the clinic, by 7am, to have some woman I didn't know get the "love wand" out and have her way with me. Never mind, I had to pee,  she couldn't find my left ovary.  Apparently it was hiding. Duh, I'm fat, it could be anywhere in there. For all I know, the sheer weight of my stomach could have pushed it down into the layers of fat in my ass. I'm not so sure Madam Technician didn't shove the love wand down there. Why don't we send Jaques Cousteau down there in a submarine for crying out loud.  It's just my uterus, don't mind me.  TGIF indeed.

Fortunately, from there the day looked up.  I mean, how could it have gotten any worse?  When you start the day like that, seriously, barring a colonoscopy appointment, I don't see how it could have gotten worse.  Anyhoosle, both my bosses were out of the office and several other key players had the day off, so it was quiet.  I actually got some stuff done.

My day really started to look up when I ran to Display and Costume to purchase butcher paper for the bulletin boards.  I found what I needed and rang the little bell really loud, just like the sign said to, and some blonde girl comes back and asks me what I need.  I tell her I need two 14 foot pieces of the red paper and then two eight foot pieces of the blue paper.  She seemed overwhelmed.  "Do you have more shopping to do?" she asked nervously.  I told her I could browse a bit while she cut it, no problem.  I wandered and wandered and then I hear her say, "She said she wants TWO 14 foot pieces of the red...." her voice sounded stressed.  I continued to walk around, taking in all the stuff the store had to offer.  It was taking forever, so I found myself really taking in every corner of the store.  And then it was as if heaven above shown down upon me.  I saw the light, I heard the angels...right in front of me were pink unicorn bandages. It was the mother-load.  I had to have some.  I don't know how much they cost, and I don't care. I have pink pony band-aids and you don't!  HA!  Then, as if my day had not been blessed enough, there it was, a two pack of white pony heads with pink manes.  They were key toppers.  With the recent loss of my pony key chain, I could not believe my luck.  It was as if I had been healed. Like, life might not suck that bad afterall.  I bought them too.  Then I spotted French Fry flavored lip gloss.  Good Lord, where was I?  I felt dirty.  It was like I was in fat-girl-pony-loving heaven and then french fries showed up.  I started to feel faint.  I needed to get out of there.

What the heck was that paper cutting girl doing? Was she measuring with a Fischer Price tape measure from Toys R Us that only measures out 6 inches? I wandered back there again.  She had someone helping her and I heard her make some comment about how it was cutting. The red was finally done and now she was on the blue.  I had no idea cutting butcher paper was so complex.  Thank goodness my job isn't that stressful.  I don't think I could take it.

I wandered some more.  I almost bought a Christmas card with a pug dog humping Santa's leg, but then opted not to.  I mean, as amusing as that was, I needed to stay focused.  I finally spied "the cutter" walking towards me with her arms full of my paper.  About time.  I looked at the two rolled up pieces and almost dropped my mouth open, but recovered.  If my dog had gnawed on that butcher paper for an hour, it would have looked better.  If she had not used scissors at all, it would have looked better.  What happened back there?  Was she possessed? Did she have a seizure? Is she legally blind? Was she cutting while jogging on a treadmill?  Nervous twitch?  My word, it was horrifying.  None the less, I paid for my paper and then really freaked out the cashier when I said, "And I want to purchase this separately" as I pointed to my pony essentials.  The girl behind me glared at me.  Quite frankly, I didn't care because nothing, and I do mean nothing, could have stopped me from buying those unicorn bandages and those pony key topper things.  I couldn't exactly put that on the company credit card.  I can imagine explaining how that was helpful to our call center on my expense report.  As essential as it was for me, I doubt the VP would agree.  Anyway, I finished with my second transaction and the hag behind me with her Mickey Mouse ears almost pushes me out of the way as I'm grabbing my stuff.  If I hadn't been on a pink pony high, that bitch would have been permanently wearing the magical world of Disney up her ass.

I returned to work with the goods, did some more work and then decided I'd had enough.  I had already put 40+ hours in this week, I was leaving while the sun was still out and while I could make it home before dark. It was at this point, it truly was, TGIF.

My underwear is in training for the Boston Marathon

I don't think the average guy has any idea what women go through when they get dressed in the morning.  Even if you are one of the girls that puts on holey jeans, a sweatshirt and some slippers, some sort of thought went into that.  If you are a girl that is not blessed with a model body, you have even more of a challenge ahead.  Today was a challenging day for me.  And, if you are a guy reading this, I'm just going to come out and tell you, everything you read beyond this point will be an over-share.

I decided to wear a skirt today.  It's a long skirt, so it covers my chubby legs. I wore these legging things underneath the skirt and then my boots that go to just under my knee.  My upper body ensemble wasn't too bad, just a sparkly top and a simple blazer.  It seems simple, yes? The problem with this little ensemble begins with the undergarments.  When you are a fat girl, you need some serious foundation.  This is where the FCD comes in (for those of you unfamiliar with this term it is the Fat Controlling Device, aka, a girdle thingy).  The FCD is kind of spandex-y and looks like a tank top.  Today, when I paired this with the legging thingys, tragedy followed.  You see, the geniuses at Lane Bryant that made the leggings bank on the fact that if you are fat, you are also an amazon woman, like your torso is approximately five feet in length.  So, I've got the waist band of my leggings up under my boobs and  I've got the FCD over that.  It seemed like a viable plan. Turns out, this was bad.  The leggings slid down, taking my underwear with it, the FCD shifted up and the waistband of my skirt didn't know where in the hell to go.  Now, to add insult to injury, the top of my boots kept sliding down (the top of my boots are a mixture of thin leather and some sort of strappy things). 

Early on, I told Valerie, "I'm going to the bathroom, I'm getting everything locked down and then I am not drinking any water today, so I don't have to go through this again."  It seemed like a plan.  I was wrong.  I walked around tugging, pulling and begging my clothes to stay put all day. I looked like I had some sort of nervous twitch that involved pulling at my underwear constantly. My clothes didn't care, they were going to drive me crazy all day.  My underwear ran more miles up and down my ass than someone preparing for the Boston marathon. By the afternoon, I thought I might cry.  I headed to the bathroom to try one more time to get things under control. By the time I was walking back to my desk, everything was already on the move again.  I spotted Valerie walking towards me. She said, "I was just coming to look for you, I was worried that your clothes got the best of you in there!"  They had.  I gave up. 

My lessons from today are as follows: Boots are not sexy...on me.  Leggings seem like a good idea...for other people. That skirt...needs a belt.  The FCD...is not my friend.  Days like today are the reason why fat girls give in and buy a mu-mu...and Crocs.

Tomorrow I am not going to try and do anything fancy.  I'm too exhausted.

My magical ride to work...

It's a Monday. Not happy about it, but gotta do what I gotta do.  I got ready for work and headed out to my truck.  I decided to check out my old collection of CD's to see if I had anything worth listening to.  I pulled out Enya.  I haven't listened to that in forever. Why not?  Maybe some relaxing music is just what I need.

As I'm driving along, I feel myself visibly relax.  This is good stuff. In my head, everything is going in slow motion. I'm in an open field, riding my unicorn effortlessly through a field of daisies and wild flowers.  I'm barefoot. My long, blonde, softly curled hair is flowing down my back and I have a circle of daisies on my head.  My boobs look amazing, my waist is small, I am a goddess (hey, shut up, if I can ride a unicorn, I can damn well be a goddess).  My unicorn, Enya, and I make our way through a beautiful countryside.  I stop and pick gum drops off the gum drop tree.  Then the Care Bears come out and hand me a fat-free, sugar-free cupcake that tastes like heaven.  A slight breeze is playing in my hair and the warm sun is on my face.  It's magical.

It's then I spy some asshat riding up on my tailgate and then darting around me.  I am unaffected.  That poor soul must be late for work and I am sure they don't mean to be an asshat.  I go back to my adventure with Enya.  Just then, I smell the turd laundry, but in my magical place, it smells like roses and once again, all is right with the world.  I take a big whiff.  Mmmmmmm, flowers. 

I'm nearing "the glass palace" now and find myself slowing down.  What's the rush?  Afterall, Enya doesn't go 65mph.  I pull in the parking lot and the breeze kicks up and Enya snorts and stamps his foot.  Fear in his eyes.  There is a darkness that is falling upon us.  I turn the truck off, my soothing CD stops.  I walk into the glass palace and go to my desk.  I open my email.  Just then, my paradise collapses.  Thunder claps, rain starts, Enya rears up in fear as the "unicorn poop" in my email oozes out.  Then suddenly there is a landslide and Enya and I fall down the hillside into the river.  When I reach the bottom, Enya's leg is broken, my dress is torn, my pot belly is sticking out, my boobs went flat, my hair has sticks in it and what I believe to be a pissed off squirrel.  Now, I am going to have to shoot my unicorn to put it out of it's misery and, in all probability, will get rabies from that damn squirrel fighting for it's life in my hair.

I stand up to go get water and my knee screams out in pain  Stupid rainstorm. Stupid hill. Stupid unicorn. I over-estimated the power of the Enya CD.  Tomorrow I'd better try AC/DC.  I think a little Back in Black might be more suitable to prepare me for my work day...or maybe Hells Bells.