If I had Holiday Spirit, I just spent it all...

So, all week I've been saying, I'm not going to dress up.  I'm not.  I'm not in the mood, I have some stuff going on that is really bringing me down, I'm not in the mood for this crap.  But, the peer pressure kicks in. I usually can ignore it and press on independently. And then, as I was getting ready for work yesterday morning I heard them talk about someone being Honey Boo Boo for Halloween.  I lit up like a Christmas tree!  Who is better prepared to portray a chubby little white trash pageant queen?  No one.  While I have no pageant experience under my belt, I sure could dress up like a princess...a chubby princess.  Why not work the angle.  I inventoried my supplies.  Wedding dress, check. Curly wig, check. Tiara, check. Sash, need to get. Sketti, check.  I was gonna rock this thing called Halloween.

At 6:30AM this morning I arrived at Mom's house to have her help me get into the wedding dress.  It laces up the back, so I kinda needed her.  She looks less than impressed to be awake at this hour, but nonetheless, as a dutiful mother, takes care of this.  My sister even got up to check it out and give her spin on it.  I was ready for the day.  It came out like this, complete with sketti in the bowl.

It got a little dicey after this.  You see, I had forgotten how "poofy" my dress was at the bottom.  I managed to crawl into my truck and get all of my bottom half in, but it looked like the air bags had already deployed.  Perhaps I hadn't thought this through.  I pushed everything down so I could see and then attempted the seat belt. Crap.  It wouldn't even come close.  I did some more negotiating and got it buckled.  I mean, sure I couldn't move, but really, as long as I didn't have to have a high speed chase, I should be okay, right?

I arrived at work and started doing my rounds.  My Honey Boo Boo costume was a hit.  I added the local southern drawl of a chubby beauty queen in and it made it "pop."   I got my sketti and Mountain Dew and really worked the room.  The problem is, the wig was hot, the dress was hot and now I was thirsty.  Ok, I'll pop the top to the Mountain Dew.  I don't normally do the dew, but might as well get into character.  Pretty soon the Dew was follwed by some Halloween candy.  I don't know what happened, but pretty soon I was buzzed and I needed another Dew.  Insert beauty queen food - Pixie Stix into my life and I was jacked up.

This is the face of a woman jacked up on sugar.  A woman that has been trying to rid her life of sugar.  She is delirious.  The Facebook status updates were coming fast and furious.  I mean, I found PIXIE STIX!!!

Next thing you know, I'm over shaking a coat rack like I'm on crack.  This video also made it to Facebook. My high continued on for a while and then suddenly, I was very tired.  Tired and hot.  I had the fan on at my desk and my dress pulled up around my waist while I sat at my desk.  Is anyone else sleepy?  And, is that air I feel in the back of my dress?  Is the lace up part coming undone exposing my bum?  I didn't want to know.  That air felt SO GOOD.  A cool butt is so refreshing in these circumstances. 

I sat there and tried to focus on work.  Where are my glasses?  I can't find my glasses.  Weird.  I leaned over and I heard a "clink" noise coming from my boobs.  That's weird, those things shouldn't be clinking in there.  I look down, and there, in the place my cleavage should be, but instead resides a vast plains area, there are my glasses, my cell phone and some lipstick.  When did I put all that stuff down there?  I was crashing.  Clearly I needed another Dew.  This must be why Honey Boo Boo mixes Red Bull with her Dew.  It must make it last longer.  I had some fun size Twix bars and I revived slightly.

As the day progressed, the costume judging happened and pictures started to be downloaded to random places.  Whatever, I don't care. Obviously, if I'm willing to do this, I can take a little exposure.  Then my friend pings me on our instant message system and says, "I put your picture on my Twitter page.  Honey Boo Boo has now grabbed it and RT'd it."  What does that mean? RT'd?  Apparenlty, Honey Boo Boo or her peeps grabbed her tweet about me and retweeted it on Honey Boo Boo's page.  I didn't ask for this.  I'm just a small town girl dressing up for Halloween.  This is serious. This could be my 15 minutes of fame.  Afterall, I am on Honey Boo Boo's site!  How exciting!  I wonder, will I be contacted for my own show?  Will I get to make a guest appearance on her reality show's Christmas special as Honey Boo Boo of Christmas future?  What will I say? Do I need an agent?  Clearly, I need more Dew and Pixie Stix.

What if I get my own show? What would I call it? I don't know, but all I do know is that I just went viral and damn it, I'm ready for whatever they bring me.  If I need to do Admins Gone Wild, I'll do it.  I need to calm down.  But then, just as I was calming down, the votes came in for the costume contest.  I won in funniest category and overall BEST costume.  Clearly the masses were speaking.  Clearly, today, the day I was not going to even dress up, this day could change my life.  I sat there, fan blowing under my dress to my lady parts and my hair pulled off my neck and I thought, I've finally made my way in this world and this is how it feels?  Like I want to throw up?  Is that just the Dew talking?  I don't know. 

I came down off of my high and changed back into regular clothes and drove home.  As I sit here now writing this, my vision is blurred, I'm yawning and I'm ready to fall asleep.  I think Honey Boo Boo is ready for bed.  I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I am certain it will pale in comparison to today.  Today, the day my dreams came true at the glass palace.

Nighty-night, y'all.

Hope is a myth

People either like my spin on things because it is "real" or they tell me I need to be more positive or hopeful. Let me tell you about "hope."  It's crap.  Hope is not a strategy.  Hope is not the basket you should put all your eggs in.  Hope is for people that want to hold on to this thing that makes them feel better.  My experience with hope is that it is disappointing.  Some people would say, without hope, what are we left with?  How do we get through the day?  How do we find happiness.  Happiness is another bullshit story, but let's keep the focus on hope, shall we?

I'll tell you how we make it through the day, we breathe.  Inhale, exhale.  We pay attention as we drive to work.  We do our job and try not to piss off anyone that will kill us.  We don't play with matches or take naps in the middle of the tiger cage at the zoo.  We put our freaking big girl panties on and power through.  That is how you survive a day.  Sure, I can hope for a good day.  But often, hope doesn't come to my rescue.  Some people would say, you make your own destiny and you can't rely on hope alone.  Well no shit.  Let me give you some examples of wasting your time on hope.

It's a sheet of black ice in the parking lot.  You and your skinny dumb ass are walking in high heels doing baby steps carrying your mocha in one hand, carrying your big-ass mom purse in your other hand with your cell phone in the crook of your neck.  Bitch, please. You are a dumb-ass and you are hoping you don't slip and fall.  Well, genius, what you should have is a helmet, because when you do slip and fall and smack your bony ass against the pavement your head is going to snap back against that same pavement and give you a concussion.  I hope you have a good doctor.

It's the end of the month and you haven't made sales as good as you could have and now you hope your commission check doesn't suck.  You can hope all you want, the numbers either work out or they don't.  Hope isn't part of that.  Hope doesn't pay your bills. Why set yourself up for disappointment? Get real.

McBarbie.  She's eating McDonald's, again..  She hopes it doesn't all go to her ass. I said to her the other day, "The only thing that keeps me going day in and day out is the strong belief that someday when you are my age all of that is going to go straight to your ass and you will be a fatty." If hope is what she is holding on to, I think she better start putting money away for weight loss surgery now.  I hate to burst her bubble but I have been hoping to get skinny for years, it's never happened.  Unless she is a lucky, skinny bitch, hope isn't going to be in her favor either.

You're getting married.  You hope it doesn't rain on your special day.  Guess what, if you are getting married outside, the meteorologist can't even help you.  It's a weather system.  And if you think your dead great granny is going to shine down upon you and save your day, think again.  Your dead granny doesn't control the weather, no one does.  And God, God is busy.  Busy listening to everyone else saying "OMG, I can't believe that just happened!" or "Please God, get me out of this speeding ticket and I'll never speed again."  It's no wonder this planet is a hot mess.  When does God have time to help anyone out  with the big stuff when people keep asking for dumb stuff.  Do you think every time someone writes "OMG" that God is like, "seriously? WHAT!?"  I do.  He's over it.

So, what I am saying is, hope is bullshit.  I've tried to have hope multiple times and it always comes back and kicks me in the face.  So the next person that sends me some magical, rainbow enhanced quote of the day that tells me that without hope my soul is empty and my dreams are dead, screw you. I "hope" you step in dog crap and can't get the smell off your shoe.  Doesn't mean it will happen.  I mean, you might not even have a dog.  You might never even walk where dogs are.  I can't make hope do that job for me.  I'm going to have to drive to your house and strategically place dog crap by the door of your car, outside your garage, by your bedside.  I'm going to have to make that happen. That's the reality.

Life is work. Life is hard. If that makes me pessimistic, so be it. I don't sit here and hope things work out, I know better.  You won't see me sitting her in sheer disbelief that life sucks.  I expect it.  Inhale, exhale. That's what I'm doing today.  That is my plan tomorrow.  If something good happens, I'll enjoy that fun thing, but I sure as hell am not counting on it.

If you do have hope in your life, I won't hold it against you.  I applaud you.  I hope Santa brings you everything that is on your list, the Easter Bunny comes on schedule and the Tooth Fairy never lets you down. Glitter is in aisle five and your unicorn stickers are in aisle two.  Don't forget your free gift with purchase as you checkout with your coupons that have no expiration date.  It won't be raining as you walk to your car and no one door dinged you.  You are probably going to have a magical day and as far as I can tell, looks like the window cleaner was at your house while you were out shopping and all your windows are crystal clear so you can see your bright future...full of hope....and happiness.

Go in peace. 

Angry Pony emerges slowly from the depths of despair

This has been a tough week. Had some pretty bad blows on a personal level, some unwelcome fighting with someone that I love, but that says I don't (not Will, btw) and a general overall feeling of hopelessness. It's been exhausting.  No details because, who cares? No one but me. 

I woke up this morning with a headache, sick to my stomach and feeling very sad. I wanted to go back to bed, wanted to take a vacation day, wanted to crawl in a hole and die.  However, I put on my big girl panties and went to work.  Upon arriving, I informed my boss I wasn't in a good place and that I didn't want to come in today.  He offered his ear if I wanted to talk.  I declined.  No one needs their admin in their office blubbering for an hour, besides, my makeup was still fresh.  The boss comes out like an hour later, "are you better?"  I looked at him and said incredulously, "better than what?!"  Do you think an hour at the glass palace heals all wounds?  The glass palace is usually where the wounds start.  He was hopeful.  I told him, "no, they are not better."  Off he went.  Smart man.  I continue working when Cupcake Lady comes over.  She wants to give me a hug. She says, "I would really like to give you a hug."  I didn't want a hug.  I said, "No. I don't want a hug.  Do not give me one. No." It isn't personal, I just didn't want to be hugged.  She looked a little sad, but she'll get over it.  Life is full of disappointments.

My meloncholy glow was really reeling them in.  Stilletto Barbie comes over and takes a piece of candy out of the dish at my desk telling me how she is trying to avoid going out and smoking so she is just going to take candy. I stopped, considered her for a moment and said, "Why bother?  Why don't you go out and smoke until you die? It isn't like it matters...none of us are going to make it out alive.  Why not do what makes you happy?" She looked at me for a moment.  I don't know if she was a little scared, or offended.  She took her candy and left.  I shouted after her, "If you need anymore positive, uplifting advice, I'll be here all day!"  She kept walking.

I kept working.  Feeling so utterly sad.  Last night I had actually looked at mental institutions online to pick mine out.  One of them said that the doctors probably would not drug you and have sex with you.  Additionally, the food wasn't bad, the scrubs were comfy and that suicidal people aren't as depressing as you'd think.  I thought about it again as I worked.  It sounds like a nice vacation, doesn't it?  Sure, some people go to Hawaii or someplace exotic, but I don't know what could be more relaxing than being drugged out and laying around in pj's all day.  I would consider this more later.

I again returned my thoughts to work.  I had to call a customer service department for this online ordering site that was down.  I just needed toner for our copiers, you'd think that was simple.  It wasn't.  I called and talked to a snotty little bitch named Stephanie.  Suffice to say, after being talked down to, put on long holds and then snipped at, I hung up on her.  I then channeled Meloncholy Baby's pissy side and wrote her boss a nice email about what a bitch she was. It was three paragraphs of focused and professional rage about their company and that bitch named Stephanie.  I think this might have been the turning point for my day.

In other news, the work group that is closest to me was having a congratulatory party for one of their teammates that is getting ready to have a baby.  Rather, his wife is.  There was  cake there.  I had been avoiding the cake all day...well, more like waiting for them to cut it. The frosting looked divine.  I finally decided I would saunter over and have a piece.  It was gone.  The whole group was gone and they took the cake with them.  Those selfish cake hoarders!  I needed to take a walk.  Just walk it off.  I did my rounds.  People wanted me to stop and be chatty and be funny.  I didn't want to be.  I was mad.  I ran across one guy that was asking me about the sale of our building.  He had it all wrong.  I was immediately irritated because I have sent emails explaining this.  Doesn't anyone ever read my emails?  I looked at him and took my two fingers and pointed them at my eyes, then at his eyes and said, "Are you listening to me?  I'm going to explain this to you one more time..."  I gave Zippy the 411 on the situation.  He backed away quietly and said, "okay."  I think he gets it now.  Then, I walked over by a couple of the managers and accused them of calling each other in the morning to pick out their clothes and told them to stop slacking and get back to work.  They tried to stall the work process by telling me how they went to see Ambular in the hospital.  She just had a baby.  Seems like everyone is having a baby.  Everyone except me.  I'm still just gestating that food baby.  Anyway, it somehow got me on the topic of this other girl we have named McBarbie.  She eats McDonalds all the time and is a little petite thing and she has had two kids. She probably crapped her first kid out at 10AM and then was home by 2PM and back in her high school jeans and getting pregnant with her second one a day later. I hate her guts and have told her so.  She actually had the audacity to have one of her friends come to the hiring open house.  This friend looks just like McBarbie, little, cute, petite...ack, I hate her. I saw her as she signed in at the open house and said, "you are McBarbie's friend, aren't you?"  She smiled and said yes. I knew it. I just looked at her and shook my head.  I'm surrounded.  This is bullshit.  They are creating a McBarbie army  in my workplace and I am powerless to stop them.  It's a hostile work environment if you ask me, which no one will, by the way.

I get back to my desk and there is an email from my friend.  There is someone that is trying to find a home for an eleven week old wiener dog puppy.  Oh....crap.  What makes people happy?  Puppies do.  What do I want to be?  Happy.  It looks like puppies = happiness.  I want a puppy.  I want to hug it and squeeze it and call it my own.  Wait, I have a dog.  I have my good dog Spanky.  Well, but Spanky doesn't have a dog...I bet he would like his own dog.  I write back to her and ask for pictures.  WHAT?!  I need my head examined.  I have THREE wiener dogs already!!!  But, puppies = happiness.  You can't argue with that.  The universe has spoken.  We'll see what happens.  I called Mom to hear the voice of reason.  She instantly told me there was nothing wrong with getting another dog.  I said to her, "What was I thinking calling YOU as the voice of reason? You have, like, 20 horses and 5 dogs!"  Clearly, I'm a mess.

I sat there and thought about how stupid I was for even considering the puppy.  I mean, my walk around the center had proved that the angry pony inside me was fighting the depression, I was making a comeback.  Angry Pony doesn't want to wear a straight jacket.  Angry Pony doesn't want to feel hopeless.  Angry Pony wants to be pissed off, take names and call people out on being stupid.  Angry Pony would also like a cheeseburger, but as Angry Pony has come to learn, you don't always get what you want.  Angry Pony does like puppies, too, though. 

Like I needed one more thing to stress about this week.  Maybe someone else will take the puppy and it won't even be an issue.

I'm going to name him Snoopy and buy him a sweater.  Shit.

I have nothing funny to say

It's not a good day. I'm sick of people.  I'm sick of happy people. I'm sick of people that live their dreams. I'm sick of people that seem to have their shit together. I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of people that post all those stupid enlightening quotes on their Facebook page.  Like I'm supposed to be inspired by God closing a door so that he can instead open a window.  I can't get my fat ass up to the window to get out.  You know why? because my knees are effed up.  Because I'd probably get stuck in the window.  Or if I did get out the window, it would be a window on the 18th floor of a building and then I would fall and splat on the pavement.  Opening a window doesn't do shit for me.  I hate that windows guts.  That window doesn't mean anything to me except a draft on a cold day when my heat doesn't work.  It's bullshit.

And don't even get me started on your stupid cute kitty picture with a stupid cat hanging from a branch and it says, "Hang in there, it's almost Friday!"  First of all, that stupid cat got on that damn branch by itself.  That cat doesn't deserve sympathy, it deserves a blast of cold water from a hose knocking it off the branch.  And, another thing, it isn't "almost" Friday.  It's effing Tuesday.  I don't know about the rest of you, but I count Wednesday and Thursday as days of the week before Friday.  Keep your inspirational kitteh to yourself.

And, I'm sick of people being inspired by other people and posting how wonderful they are and how amazing their story is.  You know what picture I related to today?  This one:

 This is how I feel every day.  Like a nail has been stabbed through my heart and it is stuck there. And I was the one that accidentally put it there and now I can't get it out.  Who does that?  Who is that stupid?  Apparently I am.  Any normal person would pull out the nail and move on with their life, not me.  I have that nail stuck.  I'm not inspired and apparently don't know how to be.  I don't care if you show me this:

It doesn't even warm my heart.  That little kid thinks he/she has the world by the ass because she has a pony, and that pony loves her, but she is wrong.  She is going to grow up and be miserable. Sure, she has dreams, but they are all bullshit.  someone needs to dump her ass in a puddle of mud and just let her get it over with now.  That pony is going to die and then what?  Will she get a big wheel?  Then some big kid will steal it, then she will just stay home and eat ding dongs until she is 600 pounds and then die in her apartment with cats living off her carcass for years until someone smells something and calls the cops.  It's the best she can hope for.

I do get hope from time to time and then God closes a door.  And then a window opens, but it is like a porthole in a ship.  There is no escape.  Fat girls can't get out portholes.

I hate today.  I have nothing funny to say today. 

The end.

Baffled by Bullshit...

I'm having a problem with my cell phone/cell service.  Specifically, Sprint PCS, which, from what I can tell stands for Piece of Crap Service.  You see, I had a phone that I thought was a piece of crap, the HTC Evo.  Wait, no, I know it was a piece of crap.  It got error messages all the time. You couldn't even send a text without it giving you various error messages.  It wouldn't go online, wouldn't let you send or receive pictures, and the list goes on.  The only thing it had going for it is the pink case.  I took it into the store multiple times and each time the salesman would tell me what a piece of crap it was and how he never sells it to customers and how I got screwed.  Well, this makes a customer feel good, doesn't it?  No one could do anything about it and so I sucked it up and continued to suffer, but not in silence.  I bitched more than than the Real Housewives of whatever city that was.  Will hated it and it drove him crazy.  One day, Will said, "That's it, we are going down to get you a new phone, I don't care what it costs, it will be worth it to shut you up."  I sat there quietly for a moment, contemplating what he said.  I returned, "You know you are never going to be able to shut me up, right?"  He just looked at me and shook his head.  He knew I was right.  But, doggone it, I sure applaud his efforts.

We went to the Sprint PCS store on September 2nd.  It was our five year anniversary and Will was buying me a gift to shut me up. His training is right on schedule, I think.  Anyway, we purchased the Galaxy 2.  I wanted to just get a new phone, but apparently, Cell Phone Bitch, henceforth to be referred to as CPB, said we couldn't do that, we had to get an additional line.  I didn't understand why, but Will was willing to do anything to get me a damn phone.  She said, and I quote, "You will love this phone, I promise."  A promise is a promise and she LIED.  I hate this phone.  Sure, it has a sparkly case, but that is it.  Will has the same phone as me and has a fraction of the problems I do.  Okay, so I know what you are thinking, I'm the common denominator.  No, not true. It won't connect to the network, can't send/receive picture mail, can't get email, can't talk at home, can't talk at work.  I could go on, but I won't. (liar).

Today, I had had enough. I called them.  I got some lady named Joanne.  She said she allegedly understood. She knows exactly how I feel.  I doubt it.  I said to her, "Listen, I know you are doing your job, so I don't want to be mean to you, but I hate Sprint's guts."  She kept saying, "...what I hear you saying is..."  I'm pretty sure Joanne was a work-at-home rep that was making possum stew and watchin her granchillin.  She had no knowledge, no power and was wasting my time.  She wasted it for 40 minutes on my lunch hour.  After telling her everything that went wrong, she checked with her supervisor to see what could be done and their answer was to sell me a new phone for ONLY $129.  I said to her, "Are you out of your mind? After everything I have said, you want me to spend MORE money to get another phone?  I think that is a piss poor solution to my problem and I can't believe you find that acceptable.  We are done."  I hung up.  MAD.

I chewed on that conversation all afternoon.  I wasn't done. As soon as my shift was over, I called again.  Told my story again.  Got transferred.  Told my story again.  Got transferred to someone that was allegedly going to help.  She informed me my phone was worth over $500 so I couldn't just get out of my contract.  I informed her, it wasn't worth over $5.99 as it was now.  She then transferred me to her supervisor.  I had to tell the story again.  This time Brandon was going to help me.  After torturing me again, he advised me he had to get technical support on the line.  Apparently what that means is, he is going to cold transfer me over there and then hang up on me.  I was livid.  I had been on the phone for an hour and that Mother-Trucking-Lizard-Licking-Shit-Eating-Mouth-Breathing-Baby-of-a-Second-Cousin just disconnected me.

My ovaries were pulsating.  I'm pretty sure I just ovulated for the second time this month.  It probably isn't possible, but I just popped an ovary, I know it.  I could be having contractions at this point. My right eye was twitching again and I think my lip was starting to curl.  I sat there, angry, that one vein in my neck going "boom, boom, boom."  We are done when I say we are done.  I called back.  I got some kid.  I started out a little like this, "So, you think it is acceptable to have someone on the line for over an hour, transfer them, make them tell their story over and over and then cold transfer them just when you are allegedly going to help them?  Is that what Sprint thinks of me?  I realize you have me over a barrel being stuck in a contract, but you think that means it's okay to lie to me and then sell me sub-par equipment and then treat me like shit?  Is that Sprint's motto? Is that what my business means?  Is that what I can expect as a customer?  I just want you to note my account that I am DONE.  I realize I don't matter to you, and so, I will be reaching out to the Better Business Bureau, the Attorney General, the FCC and anyone else that will listen to me.  Please take a moment and note that."  He was quiet for a moment and assured me he cared and that he could help.  I told him I had been on the phone for hours and this was his last chance.  He wanted to transfer me to his supervisor.  I waited on hold for 10 minutes.  No check in to see if I was okay, no update, nothing.  I realized at that moment that I didn't have fresh clothes with me for work tomorrow and that I could be pulling an all nighter.  I hung up.  For just today, it's over.

I walked out to my truck, defeated.  I turned on my radio. Freakin commercials.  I hate commercials.  I put in a gansta rap type CD that one of my sister's ex boyfriends made for me. I drove home, rather fast and aggressive, there wasn't much traffic since rush hour had come and gone. My favorite song came on, "Yeah" by Usher, Lil John and Ludacris.  For reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiXbRBS5Z58.
I just let all that bad ju-ju go.  I was bad ass.  I was the hippest white chick you ever saw.  I just got into the lyrics and got down with my bad self.  I'm navigating traffic, I'm bobbing my head, you know, like any white girl does with no real ability to dance?  My neck was in this circular motion, my chin jutting out.  I was bad.  I threw some shoulder action in there.  Now, work the hips...."...hold the head steady while I milk the cows....lean over to the front....touch your toes..."  and then my favorite part, I yelled it while moving all these body parts, "I like a lady in the street but a freak in the bed!"  OH YEAH!  "Take that, windin back..."  I pictured myself in apple bottom jeans, like a shorty gettin lower lower lower.  I was working the dance floor, oh yeah....

At this point I was getting close to home.  Some ugly green blazer flicked a cigarette out the window, I was pissed.  I'm going to go Smokey the Bear all over his ass!  I'm calling the FBI, CIA, the police, the President of the United States.  That mo-fo just flicked a lit cigarette out the window and we haven't had rain for over 70 days!!!  I'm outraged!  STUPID PEOPLE!  And then, I took a breath, reached up, hit the repeat button for track #6...YEAH...back in the club....take that, windin back...yeah, yeah...head bobbin...who says white chicks can't dance?  I am working this drivers seat in this Dodge Dakota like a stripper pole.  Girls hate me, or they wanna be me... I'm that girl...lady in the street but a freak in the bed...

I'm just going to recharge "at the club" in the morning and then it is game on for Sprint tomorrow.  I've got street cred, I've got people, I've got skills and damn it...I've got ovaries.  Sprint is screwed.

10 Reasons Why I Hated Today...

I woke up today and laid there, waiting to see if I felt better.  Hoping this cold would quickly go away.  Upon rising, the coughing started. Things got graphic and I decided to declare today, Phlegm Day.  Little did I know phlegm was the least of my problems. I think I will just list things out as they occurred.

#1 - I went to put my bra on and the underwire was poking out.  Damn it!  How am I supposed to lift and separate now?  I mean, I have other bras, but this one was my favorite.  I had a shot at looking like I had boobs in this bra. 

#2 - Upon arriving at work, there is donuts, muffins, bagels and what is that I see at my desk?  Someone filled my candy bowl with chocolate.  I usually only keep stuff in the candy dish I don't like so that I don't eat it.  Crap.  This is a problem.  I have avoided Halloween candy altogether and now, here it is, stalking me at my desk.  I guess I'd better just eat one of the "fun size" 100 Grand bars.

#3 - EVERYONE is pissing me off.  Today we are having "Spirit Day" at work, so each team is dressed as a different theme. People are dressed in toga's, pajamas, sports gear, bandages, etc.  It's kind of out of hand.  All I wanted to do was show them my spirit finger.  Just the one finger...the one that has the most spirit.  Everyone has their own agenda. Everyone acts like my needs aren't important.  That was their first big mistake.  These people don't know what they are messing with.  I mean, they know, but today, they evidently don't care.  Bunch of dirt bags.  I'm in full on bitch mode and raking them over the coals for being stupid and they are oblivious.  What is going on?  I'm so pissed off that my right eye is twitching uncontrollably.  It's like it is trying to send morse code to the Russians for a space launch.  I actually think, if someone broke down the morse code my eye was sending, it would come out something like this, "Stupid...Mother...Truckers...I'll kill them...one...by...one...I'll rip their arms off and stuff them up their ass..." But I can't be certain.  At one point, I had a tear well up in my eye, but then the angry pony in me said, "oh no you don't!" and sucked it back up into the tear duct.  They will not break me...they will not.

#4 - In a random twist of events, I'm standing there talking to Ambular, who is ready to drop her baby any day, and Fluffy Shades comes up and tells me I have a nice butt in these jeans.  I just looked at her and said, "Are you mocking me because of my Jeggings blog?"  She said, "no, it looks really good."  I didn't know how to feel about that.  Does anyone else think I have a nice butt today?  Am I exuding some sort of butt confidence?  I didn't do anything special.  I just put my jeans on.  This would end up being the highlight of my day.

#5 - I think all the stress of the day has caused an under grounder zit to start on my chin.  I have the glass palace to thank for this.  I'm about to have a boil on my chin, I can feel it.  Ever seen that movie, "Something About Mary" where that Doogie guy gets boils all over his face because he is so stressed?  That is going to be me.  I finally get butt kudos and now I am going to be a boil face.

#6 - Campbell's Double Noodle Chicken Soup.  That is what is for lunch.  It is the most vile, disgusting soup, ever. Those little bastards on the commercials talking about how it is "mmm mmm good" are a bunch of liars.  It smells like ass, tastes like ass and it has MSG.  Why don't I just off myself right now.  Will bought it for me since I was sick.  Sweet of him.  How was he to know that Campbell's is now using ass as their secret ingredient?  He couldn't know it was full of carbs, processed ass and MSG.  Normally, that kind of stuff tastes really good.  Well, thank you, Campbell's Soup for making it easy for me to throw it in the trash.  I guess I'll just have saltines and a donut for lunch.  Is it any wonder I am pissy today?  I'm full of carbs and my body is angry!

#7- I arrive back at my desk after doing something that I can only classify as "herding cats," also known as getting the managers to do what I want, and there is this Christmas package on my desk from Target.  What the heck is this?  I open it and it is this little "thank you" gift for all the money I spend with them on our corporate account.  It is the ugliest Target dog I have seen with a little snowman in front of it.  It has velcro in the back and I'm like, what the hell?  Turns out, the ugly dog is wearing a snowman costume.  It's the ugliest thing a third world country has ever made.  And there is a card that says, "Happy Holidays!"  SERIOUSLY? It's October 3rd!!! Don't freaking tell me Happy Holidays!  I don't want to think about Christmas and your freaking ugly Target dog is not helping!!!  How dare they subject me to Christmas so soon.  I'm not safe anywhere.

#8 - I'm getting ready to go home and I close my drawers.  Then, I realize I need to put something else away and I go to open it again. It's stuck.  All three drawers are stuck.  Damn it!  I start kicking the shit out of the drawers.  Turns out that didn't help.  I went to the bathroom and came back and tried it again.  Turns out an empty bladder and time away from the desk didn't help either.  I went back to kicking it.  This is bullshit.  I gathered my stuff and walked over to Smarty Pants, and said, "I need you to get into my drawers tonight."  He looked confused.  I told him I needed him to fix my drawers.  He said he would and I left.  He better figure it out because if I come in tomorrow morning and they are still stuck, I will beat the mother trucking shit out of them.

#9 - The grand finale.  I'm walking out and High Heel Barbie is there by the muffin table, "here, take some home."  I say, "No, I don't need to take any home." She says, "Come on, take them."  In a moment of weakness, I take them.  As I grab the hard plastic container, it rubs against my finger and cuts it.  Son of a bitch!!!  Food Karma....AGAIN!!!!

#10 - I have to be to work early tomorrow, at 7AM to be on a conference call.  I hate tomorrow's guts and it isn't even here yet.  Bring it, Thursday, you bitch.

I wasn't prepared for today...

I was not prepared for Monday.

I woke up at 2AM with my throat so sore it felt like razor blades.  I shuffled downstairs and gutted the contents of the bathroom cabinet.  I came away the victor with some vintage Halls throat lozenges.  I mean, they expired in 2009, but they were all I had.  I returned to bed and worried I might fall back asleep and then choke on the cough drop.  Would I wake up choking, or just die in my sleep?  I laid there for a few minutes trying to suck on the cough drop like I was trying to suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.  Come on, where is the soothing action?  Where is the comforting sensation of menthol?  A few moments later when the cough drop turned into a substance similar to chewing gum, I knew these babies were too old to be of assistance to me. Luckily, I was finally able to fall asleep.

Upon rising, I decided nothing good would come of this day.  I felt like crap and wanted to return to bed. Alas, I could not, too much to do.  In an amazing twist of fate, and also because I didn't care how I looked, I was ready ahead of schedule.  I headed out the door and was off to work. I might be able to get a jump on this day after all.  WRONG.  See, positive thinking doesn't always pan out like people say.  I hadn't been on the freeway long when we came to an abrupt halt.  Accident.  We proceeded to crawl for a few miles. Now, I was going to be late.  I wasn't prepared for this either. Damn it.

I finally got to work and it seemed EVERYONE needed something.  "The urinal in the mens room is leaking, who do I report that to?"  That'd be me. "I need you to go take the Open House banner down."  I guess everyone else's arms were broken on Friday when I was gone. "Someone needs to take down those deflated balloons."  "I can't get my vacation approved, can you work on that?"  "What? No chocolate?" "Do you have my gift cards?"  And so it went. I'm coughing, sneezing, aching, my head is going to blow and the snot is running faster than I can eat it.  Where in the frig is my box of tissues?  Oh yeah, Life Coach Barbie has them in her office because she keeps making people cry.  She never made me cry, but I'm about to make her cry.  I was snippy and bitchy, and yet, people just kept coming around.  Tomorrow I am going to have to step up the sneezing and coughing, clearly.

I was not mentally prepared for this day and I needed it over.  Finally, the agony was over.  I was slowly sauntering out to my truck, trying to breathe and walk at the same time and I hear this voice from the grassy area by my truck. It is some homeless guy just in a rant.  For a moment, I thought it was my inner voices reliving the day, but nope, it was a man, with his pants partially down, holding his junk, chasing a squirrel.  I walked a little faster to my truck.  The man was really giving the squirrel what for, but I couldn't make out what he was saying for sure.  I don't know if he was trying to pee on him, was trying to rape him, or if he just needed a second opinion on what that growth was on the back side of his penis.  I don't think the squirrel was qualified to make that call, but who am I to judge.  I guess if anyone knows what decent nuts are, it's a squirrel, but today, Squirrely wasn't interested.

I sat in my truck, doors locked, and tried to make sense of this day.  There was no making sense of it.  Getting a cold, ok.  Getting stuck in traffic, ok. Wanting to choke the life from people at work, totally understandable.  But a homeless guy, his junk and a squirrel, that is going to take some therapy.  I think the only way to make sense of it is to take some Nyquil as soon as possible and pray I don't dream about gathering nuts.

Ok, that's all I have in me, I need to lay down.