I'm in a horrible mood this week. I don't feel good and all I want to do is eat stuff. I don't have to paint a big 'ol picture for some of you to figure out what is happening here. My good pal Sassy Pants calls it, "Shark Week." It's a good analogy, really. You think you are safe, your swimming around with the other humans, and then all the sudden, you see the fin and then you have teeth in your ass from treading waters you thought were shark free. You were wrong. You angered the shark, perhaps just by existing, but none the less, you are collateral damage. The shark has no remorse. The shark was simply hungry.
This morning, I was especially vile. I woke up after having a dream about my husband going to the gym and then making out with a gym bunny, which I caught him kissing her, and then I got in my truck, got in an accident and then ended up in the hospital. What the hell? Where did that come from? It's not like I'm ever going to catch him at the gym, so it's kind of a non-issue. I wonder if I'm deflecting since I have not been to the gym yet this week? Hmmm. Anyway, after that lovely thought, I did manage to make it to work with minimal swearing and road rage. I sat in the parking lot for a few moments and considered my options. I was kind of backed into a corner, I had to go in. People need me. Four Feet of Fury was going to be off-site today, so I needed to be there.
I walked in, not walking frantically, nor pokey, just at a steady pace that spoke volumes about my determination to actually make this day happen. And then, I hear quick footsteps behind me. There was plenty of room for the quick-stepper to get around, but instead, they just stayed behind me with their annoying, quick steps. I hated their guts. This was increasing my blood pressure enormously, and I was furious inside by the time we had reached the inter sanctum of the glass palace. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I stopped and moved to the side. The quick-steppers (there were now two) smiled and said, "what are you worried we are going to run you over?" I said, levelly, with a cool tone of hatred, "No, I just don't like to be rushed." They smiled, slightly and then scurried along. I headed down the last flight of steps and at the bottom was Silk Shorts Turner. He saw me coming and stopped. He had already read my post about me feeling like Jack Nicholson in The Shining today, he gave me all the room I needed and then some. He told me he appreciated how I just put my shit out there for anyone to see each day. I said, "That's because I don't give a shit what people think and if they don't like it, they can get out." And with that, we went our separate ways, this shark heading to her natural habitat.
I hadn't been there long and the phone rings. I had a couple of people calling out sick and it was my task to take the calls. I didn't have any energy for sympathy. Sharks aren't empathetic. In reality, if I had to be at work the way I felt, then they should, too. Dirtbags. I was taking shots of children's liquid Ibupropen (I can't take the pills anymore) when Sassy Pants came over to talk to me. I explained to her that I was filled with hatred for all humanity and that I could not be consoled. She understood. Shark week can be a difficult time. It's good to be understood.
The day proceeded on and a little while later I found myself over visiting Valerina trying to collect enough money for the vending machine. Her cubie mate, Princess Perky, was on break and was talking to me. Princess Perky is the happiest, most upbeat person I know. She is sweet as pie to every customer she talks to ALL DAY LONG and the ironic part is, she has been dealt with some pretty tough blows in life. She has some personal challenges in her family life that would make most people exhausted, angry, depressed and bitter. Not her. You would never know her struggles, she is one of the hardest working people I know. She amazes me and mystifies me at the same time. Kind of like when you go to the museum and you see something that you just can't believe and you want to touch it, but there is glass around it. You aren't really sure if it is real, but there it is in the museum, so it must be. You can't be mean to her, because, how can you? It would be like kicking your dog. Who can do that? Sometimes she makes me stop and think about what I am upset about. My troubles seem trivial in comparison. Anyway, as she talked to me, I mustered up all the strength I had to fight my shark-like instincts and not bite her head off. She said, "Oh, you need money, here you go. All you ever have to do is ask!" And with that, she held out her hand with change. This would complete my search for vending machine cash. I would now have enough to go to the machine and get something horrible for me.
Moments later, I found myself in front of the vending machine. Immediately I sensed a disturbance in the force. Something wasn't right. My eyes darting around the machine until I discovered the inconsistency. The apple turnover had been replaced with chocolate devil cake Zingers. Oh crap. My body needed chocolate. Would the Zingers be too much? Would they be soft, chocolately and delicious? Or, would they be dry and taste like processed lard? I was in distress. Or, should I play it safe and go for Grandma's chocolate cookies. The Zingers were only a dollar, though. That was right in my budget. To hell with it! I was getting those Zingers. I needed them, they needed me. I put my change in...clink,clink, clink....clink, clink, clink (hey, it was a lot of nickels and dimes), anyway, I finish. The machine beeps at me and says that I have not put enough money in and that the Zingers are $1.50. WHAT?! That is false freaking advertising! You don't get fat people riled up like that! I wanted to hurt the machine. I was furious. And, then, I thought of Princess Perky. I took a good look at my situation and thought, "who am I freaking kidding?! I need a mother trucking Zinger!" I was angry, but calmed down enough to make the decision that the Grandma's cookies would have to suffice for today. I pushed the buttons to achieve chocolate nirvana and the machine started to make some noise and then stopped. Just then, some dude, with his polo shirt tucked in way too tight, walked into the room. I yelled, "Are you freaking kidding me?!" I couldn't see my cookie anywhere. Tight tucked polo shirt guy looked and said, "there it is, it's down there." I leaned in closer, almost pressing my cheek to the glass, oh there it is. I got it out and said, "Whew!" Tight tucked polo shirt guy then started telling me a story about the time his Fritos got caught in there by an edge and how he was going to rough up the machine, but the machine was really heavy...I'm not going to lie, I felt trapped like a rat on a sinking ship. I didn't have time for vending machine horror stories. I needed to get to my desk and eat this cookie.
Finally back at the safety of my desk, I looked around. I have to always be aware of my surroundings as I have new people sitting around me and they like to watch me like I'm a goldfish in a bowl. Just yesterday, I was sitting there and I felt like I was being watched and this guy is staring right at me. I looked back at him and he says, "Sorry, I wasn't really staring...I promise." Right. Look, I know I'm fascinating, but really...creepy. Anyway, the coast was clear today. I ate my cookie and documented on Facebook about my trip to the vending machine. I thought about what a fraud people must think I am. Talking about losing weight and going to the gym and then succumbing to the vending machine during shark week. I was letting myself down and I was letting others down. I felt sad and angry. I thought about it some more and then decided that I never claimed to be perfect. I never claimed to be a robot that does everything right. I'm just a girl that struggles. Some days are obviously harder than others. Shark week is just a minor set-back. Next week, it will be safe to go back into the water.
This morning, I was especially vile. I woke up after having a dream about my husband going to the gym and then making out with a gym bunny, which I caught him kissing her, and then I got in my truck, got in an accident and then ended up in the hospital. What the hell? Where did that come from? It's not like I'm ever going to catch him at the gym, so it's kind of a non-issue. I wonder if I'm deflecting since I have not been to the gym yet this week? Hmmm. Anyway, after that lovely thought, I did manage to make it to work with minimal swearing and road rage. I sat in the parking lot for a few moments and considered my options. I was kind of backed into a corner, I had to go in. People need me. Four Feet of Fury was going to be off-site today, so I needed to be there.
I walked in, not walking frantically, nor pokey, just at a steady pace that spoke volumes about my determination to actually make this day happen. And then, I hear quick footsteps behind me. There was plenty of room for the quick-stepper to get around, but instead, they just stayed behind me with their annoying, quick steps. I hated their guts. This was increasing my blood pressure enormously, and I was furious inside by the time we had reached the inter sanctum of the glass palace. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. I stopped and moved to the side. The quick-steppers (there were now two) smiled and said, "what are you worried we are going to run you over?" I said, levelly, with a cool tone of hatred, "No, I just don't like to be rushed." They smiled, slightly and then scurried along. I headed down the last flight of steps and at the bottom was Silk Shorts Turner. He saw me coming and stopped. He had already read my post about me feeling like Jack Nicholson in The Shining today, he gave me all the room I needed and then some. He told me he appreciated how I just put my shit out there for anyone to see each day. I said, "That's because I don't give a shit what people think and if they don't like it, they can get out." And with that, we went our separate ways, this shark heading to her natural habitat.
I hadn't been there long and the phone rings. I had a couple of people calling out sick and it was my task to take the calls. I didn't have any energy for sympathy. Sharks aren't empathetic. In reality, if I had to be at work the way I felt, then they should, too. Dirtbags. I was taking shots of children's liquid Ibupropen (I can't take the pills anymore) when Sassy Pants came over to talk to me. I explained to her that I was filled with hatred for all humanity and that I could not be consoled. She understood. Shark week can be a difficult time. It's good to be understood.
The day proceeded on and a little while later I found myself over visiting Valerina trying to collect enough money for the vending machine. Her cubie mate, Princess Perky, was on break and was talking to me. Princess Perky is the happiest, most upbeat person I know. She is sweet as pie to every customer she talks to ALL DAY LONG and the ironic part is, she has been dealt with some pretty tough blows in life. She has some personal challenges in her family life that would make most people exhausted, angry, depressed and bitter. Not her. You would never know her struggles, she is one of the hardest working people I know. She amazes me and mystifies me at the same time. Kind of like when you go to the museum and you see something that you just can't believe and you want to touch it, but there is glass around it. You aren't really sure if it is real, but there it is in the museum, so it must be. You can't be mean to her, because, how can you? It would be like kicking your dog. Who can do that? Sometimes she makes me stop and think about what I am upset about. My troubles seem trivial in comparison. Anyway, as she talked to me, I mustered up all the strength I had to fight my shark-like instincts and not bite her head off. She said, "Oh, you need money, here you go. All you ever have to do is ask!" And with that, she held out her hand with change. This would complete my search for vending machine cash. I would now have enough to go to the machine and get something horrible for me.
Moments later, I found myself in front of the vending machine. Immediately I sensed a disturbance in the force. Something wasn't right. My eyes darting around the machine until I discovered the inconsistency. The apple turnover had been replaced with chocolate devil cake Zingers. Oh crap. My body needed chocolate. Would the Zingers be too much? Would they be soft, chocolately and delicious? Or, would they be dry and taste like processed lard? I was in distress. Or, should I play it safe and go for Grandma's chocolate cookies. The Zingers were only a dollar, though. That was right in my budget. To hell with it! I was getting those Zingers. I needed them, they needed me. I put my change in...clink,clink, clink....clink, clink, clink (hey, it was a lot of nickels and dimes), anyway, I finish. The machine beeps at me and says that I have not put enough money in and that the Zingers are $1.50. WHAT?! That is false freaking advertising! You don't get fat people riled up like that! I wanted to hurt the machine. I was furious. And, then, I thought of Princess Perky. I took a good look at my situation and thought, "who am I freaking kidding?! I need a mother trucking Zinger!" I was angry, but calmed down enough to make the decision that the Grandma's cookies would have to suffice for today. I pushed the buttons to achieve chocolate nirvana and the machine started to make some noise and then stopped. Just then, some dude, with his polo shirt tucked in way too tight, walked into the room. I yelled, "Are you freaking kidding me?!" I couldn't see my cookie anywhere. Tight tucked polo shirt guy looked and said, "there it is, it's down there." I leaned in closer, almost pressing my cheek to the glass, oh there it is. I got it out and said, "Whew!" Tight tucked polo shirt guy then started telling me a story about the time his Fritos got caught in there by an edge and how he was going to rough up the machine, but the machine was really heavy...I'm not going to lie, I felt trapped like a rat on a sinking ship. I didn't have time for vending machine horror stories. I needed to get to my desk and eat this cookie.
Finally back at the safety of my desk, I looked around. I have to always be aware of my surroundings as I have new people sitting around me and they like to watch me like I'm a goldfish in a bowl. Just yesterday, I was sitting there and I felt like I was being watched and this guy is staring right at me. I looked back at him and he says, "Sorry, I wasn't really staring...I promise." Right. Look, I know I'm fascinating, but really...creepy. Anyway, the coast was clear today. I ate my cookie and documented on Facebook about my trip to the vending machine. I thought about what a fraud people must think I am. Talking about losing weight and going to the gym and then succumbing to the vending machine during shark week. I was letting myself down and I was letting others down. I felt sad and angry. I thought about it some more and then decided that I never claimed to be perfect. I never claimed to be a robot that does everything right. I'm just a girl that struggles. Some days are obviously harder than others. Shark week is just a minor set-back. Next week, it will be safe to go back into the water.
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