Yesterday I posted the most positive post I have ever made on Facebook, historically speaking.
This is what I posted:
"it's not that often I'm this positive, so I'm about to get it all out of my system at one time. William is getting a new job. Epic. We have taken some steps today that will help our financial future. I am going to get a new boss, eventually. I have committed to doing two 5k's before the end of the year. I am going to an event with my horse on Sunday. I will believe that positive changes can happen and I will enjoy them all. I feel like doing a Sheldon Cooper BAZINGA! right now because I'm scared to jinx anything I just said. I always get scared I'll get disappointed, but maybe this time will be different because I got a unicorn in the mail and that MUST be a sign...a good sign. And, I'm going to be a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows for Halloween!!"
I mean, I knew it was a gamble. I'm not positive because it is too risky. Things could fall apart or not happen like I want and all that believing will just make it more painful. None the less, I had recklessly posted how positive I was about the changes and suggested this could have been a mistake. Today, I knew I had gone too far an the Universe was "checking" me.
It started innocently enough. I put on my black tights and then tried on various things until I decided on today's ensemble. It involved my boots and a skirt. The boots are always a good choice. I even tried something new with my hair today, which was only semi successful. Anyway, I was feeling sassy. Empowered almost. I stopped off and got the gift cards that our visiting Director had requested I get. She wanted 20 $25 Starbucks cards. I was like, wow, she is being super generous. I arrived at work and presented them to her. She said, "Oh, I wanted 20 $5 gift cards, I don't have this rich of a budget." Mother. Trucker. I called the store to see if I could return or exchange them. Nope. I guess we were going to need to have a lot of sales contests with Starbucks as the reward. I said, "Well, I can take these four cards down to Starbucks and have them cash out this amount for the 20 $5 cards you wanted." Seems like an easy fix. Right?
I arrived at Starbucks in my boots. I was one Pumpkin Spice Latte away from being the stereo-typical white woman. Luckily, I don't drink coffee, at all, so I would remain atypical. I let the scrawny kid behind the counter know what I needed. He seemed confused. I said, "I need to use these gift cards to purchase 20 $5 gift cards, can you do that?" He looked slightly confused, "So, let's see...20 $25 gift cards? How many?" I stopped him, "No, that is how this all started. I need 20 of these cards in increments of $5." He said, "Okay, let me do the math..." I was like, "no math needed, I have $100 in gift cards now to pay for this transaction. That equals 20 $5 gift cards." I could see he was perplexed still, but he started entering them, sure enough, he rings the first one of up for $25. I am mentally slapping my forehead. He calls the manager over, tells her what I need. She voids his transaction and rings the first one up for $25. I'm losing it. I said, "No, not $25. I need $5 on each of these cards. I have 20 cards." Finally, she makes progress and the scrawny kid takes over again. He says, "Sorry, I'm dyslexic. Can I get you something to drink?" I gave him a firm NO and left. As I'm walking down the sidewalk in my black boots, black tights, black and white houndstooth skirt and my stylin' rain trench coat I notice that I'm kind of doing a weird walk. Like, I think my hips were doing an extra "boom." What the hell?
With the task accomplished, I head back to work. I get to a stop light where I need to turn left. There is a SUV in front of me. Our light is red. All the sudden he starts to go. Like, he got out into the middle of the intersection. I'm sitting there saying to myself, "what a dumbass." As if just realizing he was a dumbass, he stops mid-intersection and waits for the light to turn green. Mind you, all the existing traffic that does have a green light has to maneuver around him. Finally, our light turns green, we start to go and this guy in the lane right next to me jumps out of his vehicle to check something behind his truck. Don't mind me, I'm just obeying the law and trying to navigate back the Glass freaking Palace. I dodge that and continue on. It's two lanes in my way of travel, the dumbass is in front of me driving like, well, a dumbass. He takes the left lane, I take the right. Then he decides he wants over in front of me in my lane so puts his blinker on and stops. What the hell? There is no other traffic...what? Not wanting to be taken out, I let him go in front of me. Then, some guy parked on the side of the road flings his door open to get out of his vehicle. Holy Batshit, Robin, I just want to get back to work in one piece.
At this point, I'm kind of overwhelmed, I just need a break. I pull in to McDonalds. I never go there, but I needed some comfort fries, RIGHT NOW. I pull up to the first menu to see where the value menu is and the guy starts yelling at me from the intercom telling me to pull forward to order. Look, dicknose, I will pull up there when I am ready. What is wrong with people today, get off my back! I get a beverage. Hey, look, it's the Monopoly game! I pull off the Monopoly pieces and sure enough, I'm not a winner. No surprises there.
I get back to work and find a parking spot. Again I notice I've got this saunter going on that is not my usual saunter. I think it's the boots. I think the boots are making me walk around like I'm some Rap guys girlfriend. It's like I'm powerless to stop the boom boom going on. I get in the office without seducing anyone with my Shakira hips and settle in at my desk. I get a visit from Sister Sarcastic and her step-son, Happy Kid. They brought me a wooden horse with a makeshift horn. It's a unicorn, they said. I gave a tentative, "...thanks?" We believe this unicorn to be an absorber of power and it is going to absorb my powers of awesomeness and be magical. This is our hope. After some idle chit-chat, they leave.
Finally, I get down to some real work. No, it isn't meant to be. I hear Angry Stallion going on about how he was victimized by the deli service lady at a local grocery store. It would seem that she helped the black man in front of him with a smile and sense of passion. When Angry Stallion walked up there, just a simple white man, she gave him half-assed service, threw his breakfast burrito in the microwave for a few seconds and then sent Angry Stallion on his way. He got to work and bit into his burrito and it was cold. That bitch had clearly discriminated against him. Most people don't know that middle-aged white men get discriminated against at grocery store deli's, but they do. The struggle is real. He was feverishly looking for their email. Amused by all of this, I yelled over the wall, "That is bullshit! Don't stop with an e-mail, you go to the CEO! You deserve JUSTICE!" He agreed. This was an outrage. You can't eat a cold burrito! Who eats cold burritos? I'll tell you who doesn't, that black guy. We've got some serious first world problems going on here, you don't understand. Then, a woman was walking around the office that we believe may or may not become our new boss. She was like a cold chill cutting through the air. One of the consultants come running over and said, "Did you see Cruella de Ville? You can freeze ice on her ass." Yeah, I saw her. I knew she was not the boss for me and said a little prayer it would not be so. Things could get ugly real fast in my world. Anyway, Angry Stallion was also upset about Cruella. Nobody needed this kind of news. As if he could take no more, he left. He was going to go to lunch and maybe, just maybe, go confront the service deli discriminator. I laughed at the hilarity of this whole situation. This day is just not good.
It was now time to go check the mail. Me and my boom-ditty boom-ditty boom boom Shakira hips didn't leave any lies out there, we walked the truth up the stairs to the mail area. I picked up a letter sent to me from the National Professional Women's Association. Yeah, I'm real professional today...First street professional. I considered that my boots were bewitched. Like, if you put them on, you turn into a prostitute working First Avenue. Disturbingly enough, I kind of liked it. I owned it. At one point, I was leaning against one of the cubes talking to Sassy Pants and I was standing there resting one foot pushing my butt out. I told her, "I can't seem to stop. What is a matter with me? I don't act like this?" I know cats in heat acting more subtle. I need to take a break from the boots. This has gotten out of hand.
I returned to my area once again. Angry Stallion had returned victorious. He had gone to that store, reamed out the service desk and got a $3 refund for his cold burrito. Justice was served! That's right, no more discrimination! I told him, "Someone has to fight for the people, be the change we want to see in this world!!" I was actually enjoying this part of my day. Often, Angry Stallion keeps me from crying. He and I can joke about the hilarity and stupidity of this Glass Palace, the unfairness of life and how we are one step away from the apocalypse. It's coming, don't even challenge us on this. We have proof.
Anyway, we finished off the day having dinner with our visiting Director at Olive Garden. I told Angry Stallion, "if anyone tries to give you bad service...give them hell! I'll record it with my phone and we'll go the the CEO..." I'm nothing if not supportive. It took them approximately 30 minutes for them to bring me a "to go" box. I'm going to let this one slide...this time. I'll live to fight another day.
That is a lot of rambling to say, it was a long, weird, frustrating day and I blame it all on my previous nights positivity. I will not be making that mistake again. I may, however, try to start generating some extra cash in those boots on the weekends. What? Too far?
This is what I posted:
"it's not that often I'm this positive, so I'm about to get it all out of my system at one time. William is getting a new job. Epic. We have taken some steps today that will help our financial future. I am going to get a new boss, eventually. I have committed to doing two 5k's before the end of the year. I am going to an event with my horse on Sunday. I will believe that positive changes can happen and I will enjoy them all. I feel like doing a Sheldon Cooper BAZINGA! right now because I'm scared to jinx anything I just said. I always get scared I'll get disappointed, but maybe this time will be different because I got a unicorn in the mail and that MUST be a sign...a good sign. And, I'm going to be a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows for Halloween!!"
I mean, I knew it was a gamble. I'm not positive because it is too risky. Things could fall apart or not happen like I want and all that believing will just make it more painful. None the less, I had recklessly posted how positive I was about the changes and suggested this could have been a mistake. Today, I knew I had gone too far an the Universe was "checking" me.
It started innocently enough. I put on my black tights and then tried on various things until I decided on today's ensemble. It involved my boots and a skirt. The boots are always a good choice. I even tried something new with my hair today, which was only semi successful. Anyway, I was feeling sassy. Empowered almost. I stopped off and got the gift cards that our visiting Director had requested I get. She wanted 20 $25 Starbucks cards. I was like, wow, she is being super generous. I arrived at work and presented them to her. She said, "Oh, I wanted 20 $5 gift cards, I don't have this rich of a budget." Mother. Trucker. I called the store to see if I could return or exchange them. Nope. I guess we were going to need to have a lot of sales contests with Starbucks as the reward. I said, "Well, I can take these four cards down to Starbucks and have them cash out this amount for the 20 $5 cards you wanted." Seems like an easy fix. Right?
I arrived at Starbucks in my boots. I was one Pumpkin Spice Latte away from being the stereo-typical white woman. Luckily, I don't drink coffee, at all, so I would remain atypical. I let the scrawny kid behind the counter know what I needed. He seemed confused. I said, "I need to use these gift cards to purchase 20 $5 gift cards, can you do that?" He looked slightly confused, "So, let's see...20 $25 gift cards? How many?" I stopped him, "No, that is how this all started. I need 20 of these cards in increments of $5." He said, "Okay, let me do the math..." I was like, "no math needed, I have $100 in gift cards now to pay for this transaction. That equals 20 $5 gift cards." I could see he was perplexed still, but he started entering them, sure enough, he rings the first one of up for $25. I am mentally slapping my forehead. He calls the manager over, tells her what I need. She voids his transaction and rings the first one up for $25. I'm losing it. I said, "No, not $25. I need $5 on each of these cards. I have 20 cards." Finally, she makes progress and the scrawny kid takes over again. He says, "Sorry, I'm dyslexic. Can I get you something to drink?" I gave him a firm NO and left. As I'm walking down the sidewalk in my black boots, black tights, black and white houndstooth skirt and my stylin' rain trench coat I notice that I'm kind of doing a weird walk. Like, I think my hips were doing an extra "boom." What the hell?
 |
| Boom Boom |
At this point, I'm kind of overwhelmed, I just need a break. I pull in to McDonalds. I never go there, but I needed some comfort fries, RIGHT NOW. I pull up to the first menu to see where the value menu is and the guy starts yelling at me from the intercom telling me to pull forward to order. Look, dicknose, I will pull up there when I am ready. What is wrong with people today, get off my back! I get a beverage. Hey, look, it's the Monopoly game! I pull off the Monopoly pieces and sure enough, I'm not a winner. No surprises there.
I get back to work and find a parking spot. Again I notice I've got this saunter going on that is not my usual saunter. I think it's the boots. I think the boots are making me walk around like I'm some Rap guys girlfriend. It's like I'm powerless to stop the boom boom going on. I get in the office without seducing anyone with my Shakira hips and settle in at my desk. I get a visit from Sister Sarcastic and her step-son, Happy Kid. They brought me a wooden horse with a makeshift horn. It's a unicorn, they said. I gave a tentative, "...thanks?" We believe this unicorn to be an absorber of power and it is going to absorb my powers of awesomeness and be magical. This is our hope. After some idle chit-chat, they leave.
Finally, I get down to some real work. No, it isn't meant to be. I hear Angry Stallion going on about how he was victimized by the deli service lady at a local grocery store. It would seem that she helped the black man in front of him with a smile and sense of passion. When Angry Stallion walked up there, just a simple white man, she gave him half-assed service, threw his breakfast burrito in the microwave for a few seconds and then sent Angry Stallion on his way. He got to work and bit into his burrito and it was cold. That bitch had clearly discriminated against him. Most people don't know that middle-aged white men get discriminated against at grocery store deli's, but they do. The struggle is real. He was feverishly looking for their email. Amused by all of this, I yelled over the wall, "That is bullshit! Don't stop with an e-mail, you go to the CEO! You deserve JUSTICE!" He agreed. This was an outrage. You can't eat a cold burrito! Who eats cold burritos? I'll tell you who doesn't, that black guy. We've got some serious first world problems going on here, you don't understand. Then, a woman was walking around the office that we believe may or may not become our new boss. She was like a cold chill cutting through the air. One of the consultants come running over and said, "Did you see Cruella de Ville? You can freeze ice on her ass." Yeah, I saw her. I knew she was not the boss for me and said a little prayer it would not be so. Things could get ugly real fast in my world. Anyway, Angry Stallion was also upset about Cruella. Nobody needed this kind of news. As if he could take no more, he left. He was going to go to lunch and maybe, just maybe, go confront the service deli discriminator. I laughed at the hilarity of this whole situation. This day is just not good.
It was now time to go check the mail. Me and my boom-ditty boom-ditty boom boom Shakira hips didn't leave any lies out there, we walked the truth up the stairs to the mail area. I picked up a letter sent to me from the National Professional Women's Association. Yeah, I'm real professional today...First street professional. I considered that my boots were bewitched. Like, if you put them on, you turn into a prostitute working First Avenue. Disturbingly enough, I kind of liked it. I owned it. At one point, I was leaning against one of the cubes talking to Sassy Pants and I was standing there resting one foot pushing my butt out. I told her, "I can't seem to stop. What is a matter with me? I don't act like this?" I know cats in heat acting more subtle. I need to take a break from the boots. This has gotten out of hand.
I returned to my area once again. Angry Stallion had returned victorious. He had gone to that store, reamed out the service desk and got a $3 refund for his cold burrito. Justice was served! That's right, no more discrimination! I told him, "Someone has to fight for the people, be the change we want to see in this world!!" I was actually enjoying this part of my day. Often, Angry Stallion keeps me from crying. He and I can joke about the hilarity and stupidity of this Glass Palace, the unfairness of life and how we are one step away from the apocalypse. It's coming, don't even challenge us on this. We have proof.
Anyway, we finished off the day having dinner with our visiting Director at Olive Garden. I told Angry Stallion, "if anyone tries to give you bad service...give them hell! I'll record it with my phone and we'll go the the CEO..." I'm nothing if not supportive. It took them approximately 30 minutes for them to bring me a "to go" box. I'm going to let this one slide...this time. I'll live to fight another day.
That is a lot of rambling to say, it was a long, weird, frustrating day and I blame it all on my previous nights positivity. I will not be making that mistake again. I may, however, try to start generating some extra cash in those boots on the weekends. What? Too far?
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