So, I'm seeing a therapist. I won't go on about the details, but she wants me to focus on pink as my happy color. When I am feeling negative or stressed, I'm supposed to look at something pink. Pink is my favorite color. Today, even if a 50 gallon drum of Pepto Bismo spilled on my desk, there would not have been enough pink to make me happy.
It was just one of those days where stupid little things happen and you want to punch people. You know how there have been movies about people dying and then coming back and inhabiting someone else's body? Well, today, I could have swore a very angry, possibly deranged, man was in my body. Don't ask me why it was man, I mean, it isn't like I stood up when I peed or anything, but I just felt a very aggressive energy.
I get angry when people ask me to do stupid, time consuming projects for people that are out of the office that could be done just as easily on Monday when they return. It would have made my day so much easier, but no, that isn't the way things went down. It is good I am not PMS'ing because I would have taken to the roof with a stuffed pony in one hand, scissors in the other and possibly some sort of balloon arch to mark the occassion. And I wouldn't have been alone, I would have taken an offender with me. Someone that had pissed me off was going off that roof. You didn't think I was going to kill myself did you? I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm not dying here.
In addition to the stupid things/people that were getting under my skin, we are trying to clean up the office for a VIP visit. Let's just say one area that I am kind of responsible for, but do not personally use, is a pig stye. Valerie is in there cleaning things up when I hear her say, "EW!" It would appear that someone that works close to me and has a coffee pot plugged in has left several coffee cups that have had coffee and hot chocolate in them. It is safe to say they are a science experiment at this point. I told Valerie to throw them away. My job duties do not include doing dishes and neither should hers. Valerie being a little more stubborn than I, decided she was going to clean it. Whatever. She goes to take the mug off the shelf and it spills...a lot. Now there is a big brown spot of primorial ooze on the floor. It is going to look like my boss or someone in the near vicinity crapped their pants. Woops. See, this wouldn't have happened if those cups had been cared for by the person in question.
In the midst of all this, my bra is creeping up on the left side. Don't get me started about this again. I look down and there it is! The only silver lining in that story is that it is pink. Course, it was making me mad, so there goes my therapists theory. No more pink bras for me.
Now let's talk about the guy at Staples. Really, anyone at any store qualifies for this rant. When I am checking out, why do I have to sign up for the "rewards club" to get a discount. Freakin pisses me off. I came uncorked. I'm pretty sure my nostrils flared and I looked at Valerie, who was with me, and I said, "I hate signing up for that crap and I'm not doing it." The little nerdy guy behind the counter looked uneasy. Valerie showed mercy upon him and signed up for a "rewards club" account. I walked out of the store ranting, "Why can't a person just buy something anymore?!!!! Why can't I just pay and go?! Why do I have to have a freaking card for everything?" Valerie calmly said, "I don't know, honey, let's just go."
The upside to the trip to Staples is that I found the most delightful pink tape dispenser. I had to have it. And no, the company did not purchase it, I did, with my own hard-earned funds.
Isn't it beautiful? I already have people threatening to steal it. I have marked it accordingly as my own, so don't think about it bitches.
Anyway, it's kind of been a long day. I've yelled at a few people and I feel kind of bad about it, but not completely. Some of them deserved it. Some not so much. I posted on FB the following message:
"
It was just one of those days where stupid little things happen and you want to punch people. You know how there have been movies about people dying and then coming back and inhabiting someone else's body? Well, today, I could have swore a very angry, possibly deranged, man was in my body. Don't ask me why it was man, I mean, it isn't like I stood up when I peed or anything, but I just felt a very aggressive energy.
I get angry when people ask me to do stupid, time consuming projects for people that are out of the office that could be done just as easily on Monday when they return. It would have made my day so much easier, but no, that isn't the way things went down. It is good I am not PMS'ing because I would have taken to the roof with a stuffed pony in one hand, scissors in the other and possibly some sort of balloon arch to mark the occassion. And I wouldn't have been alone, I would have taken an offender with me. Someone that had pissed me off was going off that roof. You didn't think I was going to kill myself did you? I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm not dying here.
In addition to the stupid things/people that were getting under my skin, we are trying to clean up the office for a VIP visit. Let's just say one area that I am kind of responsible for, but do not personally use, is a pig stye. Valerie is in there cleaning things up when I hear her say, "EW!" It would appear that someone that works close to me and has a coffee pot plugged in has left several coffee cups that have had coffee and hot chocolate in them. It is safe to say they are a science experiment at this point. I told Valerie to throw them away. My job duties do not include doing dishes and neither should hers. Valerie being a little more stubborn than I, decided she was going to clean it. Whatever. She goes to take the mug off the shelf and it spills...a lot. Now there is a big brown spot of primorial ooze on the floor. It is going to look like my boss or someone in the near vicinity crapped their pants. Woops. See, this wouldn't have happened if those cups had been cared for by the person in question.
In the midst of all this, my bra is creeping up on the left side. Don't get me started about this again. I look down and there it is! The only silver lining in that story is that it is pink. Course, it was making me mad, so there goes my therapists theory. No more pink bras for me.
Now let's talk about the guy at Staples. Really, anyone at any store qualifies for this rant. When I am checking out, why do I have to sign up for the "rewards club" to get a discount. Freakin pisses me off. I came uncorked. I'm pretty sure my nostrils flared and I looked at Valerie, who was with me, and I said, "I hate signing up for that crap and I'm not doing it." The little nerdy guy behind the counter looked uneasy. Valerie showed mercy upon him and signed up for a "rewards club" account. I walked out of the store ranting, "Why can't a person just buy something anymore?!!!! Why can't I just pay and go?! Why do I have to have a freaking card for everything?" Valerie calmly said, "I don't know, honey, let's just go."
The upside to the trip to Staples is that I found the most delightful pink tape dispenser. I had to have it. And no, the company did not purchase it, I did, with my own hard-earned funds.
Anyway, it's kind of been a long day. I've yelled at a few people and I feel kind of bad about it, but not completely. Some of them deserved it. Some not so much. I posted on FB the following message:
"
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