Any day that you come home, step out of your truck and walk towards the house with your purse and lunch pail in one hand and your bra in the other, it's been a hard day. And, inside the lunch pail is my FCD( fat controlling device). It was a rough one. The impromptu thunder and lightening that kept me awake half the night combined with the fact it was my first day back after five days off and we have executive visitors coming this week, well, just shoot me already.
The day started out simple enough. I woke up tired and pissed off, like any other day. I put on a new bra that I had purchased over the weekend and it felt good. It lifted and separated. It made me look like I had boobs. And, ladies, correct me if I am wrong, but if you are having a good boob day, what else can you ask for? Well, hair of course, but let's not get greedy.
I arrived at work and looked around. We still had some work to do to be ready for the VIP's visit, which begins tomorrow. Sigh. I was hoping it would be done so we could just work out the last minute details. This was beyond details. I was instantly pissy, but at least I was having a good boob day. Fast forward about 30 minutes. I hate my new bra. It started pinching and poking me on the sides of my boobs. This made me even crabbier. My boss came in and said "good morning" and I couldn't even look at him. He hadn't done anything wrong, but his mere presence was a reminder of my projects that needed to be done today.
I found myself getting snippier and snippier as the day progressed. As I was walking around moving stand up movie poster things around the center, I noticed my pink tape dispenser on a random desk. Who in the eff took my pink tape dispenser? There was no authorization for this blatant thievery. I went back to my desk, sat down and composed the following message to send to the suspected offenders: "Dear Crossfit Crazy & High Heel Barbie, you do not, nor did you have authorization to take my pink tape dispenser. Do not ever do this again. Failure to comply will lead to decapitation." I don't mess around with these people. This is bullsh*t. What next? My pink, heart-shaped pop-up post-it dispenser? You have to set boundaries.
As the day continued, I could not contain my hostility. I had told Thong Barbie that she sucked at Power Point presentations, I had barked at a parking lot violator and had snipped at Valerie for losing the wire that we use for balloon arches. Doesn't anyone know how to put things away anymore?! Additionally, I had told the new hire class that this was not Glamor Shots and that yes, I probably would go to my desk, load their pictures and mock them, without remorse, before sending their badge requests in. Then, one of my bosses decided that we needed to do a walk-thru of the center and check for problem areas. Mind you, we just did this last week. But, this is my job, so I dutifully follow him as he looks at each cubicle with scrutiny. He asked me at one cube, "don't you think we should have them clean that up?" I looked at him and said, "See, this isn't a good time to ask me that, because what I want to tell you is that I don't give a crap what happens with that." He looked at me, like maybe he should say something to me about my attitude, but then changed his mind. He knew it was a lost cause. I continued to follow him around like a dutiful servant until I couldn't take it anymore and I told him, "I don't have all day, I have sh*t to do." And with that, the inspection was over.
I returned to my desk. My bra was applying so much pressure I thought I might go insane. Finally, I couldn't take it, I had to go home. I packed my FCD up inside my lunch pail that I had brought just in case things got out of hand, and then left. Upon arriving safely inside my truck, I took the bra off. Liberation was mine. My boobs returned to their normal residences of southeast and southwest. I looked down and all I could see was my belly. My boobs assumed the position of "non existent." My seatbelt had no where to reside, no boob cleavage to be wedged in. I'm lucky I wasn't beheaded with the damn seat belt.
I arrived home and Will stepped out to greet me and there I was, purse and lunch pail in one hand and bra in the other. I walked up the steps, put my bra in his hand and walked past him into the house. Finally, now I can take off my pants....but that is another story.
The day started out simple enough. I woke up tired and pissed off, like any other day. I put on a new bra that I had purchased over the weekend and it felt good. It lifted and separated. It made me look like I had boobs. And, ladies, correct me if I am wrong, but if you are having a good boob day, what else can you ask for? Well, hair of course, but let's not get greedy.
I arrived at work and looked around. We still had some work to do to be ready for the VIP's visit, which begins tomorrow. Sigh. I was hoping it would be done so we could just work out the last minute details. This was beyond details. I was instantly pissy, but at least I was having a good boob day. Fast forward about 30 minutes. I hate my new bra. It started pinching and poking me on the sides of my boobs. This made me even crabbier. My boss came in and said "good morning" and I couldn't even look at him. He hadn't done anything wrong, but his mere presence was a reminder of my projects that needed to be done today.
I found myself getting snippier and snippier as the day progressed. As I was walking around moving stand up movie poster things around the center, I noticed my pink tape dispenser on a random desk. Who in the eff took my pink tape dispenser? There was no authorization for this blatant thievery. I went back to my desk, sat down and composed the following message to send to the suspected offenders: "Dear Crossfit Crazy & High Heel Barbie, you do not, nor did you have authorization to take my pink tape dispenser. Do not ever do this again. Failure to comply will lead to decapitation." I don't mess around with these people. This is bullsh*t. What next? My pink, heart-shaped pop-up post-it dispenser? You have to set boundaries.
As the day continued, I could not contain my hostility. I had told Thong Barbie that she sucked at Power Point presentations, I had barked at a parking lot violator and had snipped at Valerie for losing the wire that we use for balloon arches. Doesn't anyone know how to put things away anymore?! Additionally, I had told the new hire class that this was not Glamor Shots and that yes, I probably would go to my desk, load their pictures and mock them, without remorse, before sending their badge requests in. Then, one of my bosses decided that we needed to do a walk-thru of the center and check for problem areas. Mind you, we just did this last week. But, this is my job, so I dutifully follow him as he looks at each cubicle with scrutiny. He asked me at one cube, "don't you think we should have them clean that up?" I looked at him and said, "See, this isn't a good time to ask me that, because what I want to tell you is that I don't give a crap what happens with that." He looked at me, like maybe he should say something to me about my attitude, but then changed his mind. He knew it was a lost cause. I continued to follow him around like a dutiful servant until I couldn't take it anymore and I told him, "I don't have all day, I have sh*t to do." And with that, the inspection was over.
I returned to my desk. My bra was applying so much pressure I thought I might go insane. Finally, I couldn't take it, I had to go home. I packed my FCD up inside my lunch pail that I had brought just in case things got out of hand, and then left. Upon arriving safely inside my truck, I took the bra off. Liberation was mine. My boobs returned to their normal residences of southeast and southwest. I looked down and all I could see was my belly. My boobs assumed the position of "non existent." My seatbelt had no where to reside, no boob cleavage to be wedged in. I'm lucky I wasn't beheaded with the damn seat belt.
I arrived home and Will stepped out to greet me and there I was, purse and lunch pail in one hand and bra in the other. I walked up the steps, put my bra in his hand and walked past him into the house. Finally, now I can take off my pants....but that is another story.
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