Great Comeback May 23, 2012

Short post because I’m swamped.  But this just happened and I’m about to cry from laughter.  You have to remember that my mom still thinks I’m virginal and has told me such as recent as two weeks ago.  She is honest and true, so sweet and innocent herself that she has no idea that ship left town oh…..what 17 years ago? If it was anyone but her, I’d have a hard time believing it.  PIC can attest.  She’s like Ms. Claus, but sweeter.

Anyway, here is what happened.

Me: AHHHH.  PLEASE stop calling me at work with the same question. I told you already and that hasn’t changed.  I love you.  Bye.  click

Coworker: What’s she bitching about?

Me: Bless.  She doesn’t want to pay closing costs on a timeshare she is selling.  She’s not listening to me when I tell her the seller will cover it if you stipulate they must.

Coworker: And she doesn’t believe you why?

Me: I don’t know. Not like I have attended no less than 50 closings and FUNDED them in the last couple years.

Coworker: She forgets things….. and when did you get a timeshare?

Me: Oh you’ll love this.  She got it “because I thought  you were having a kid with Paul.  And I wanted to impress the grandkid, but you didn’t.  So now I have no use for it.”

Coworker: Aw.  But did you tell her you were practicing really hard?

Me: laughing so hard I almost peed.

God bless you Coworker.

Wild Kingdom Assassins May 17, 2012

For reals.  It’s spring and the wild kingdom is making its presence known at my office.

Remember how I said Gangster Squirrels were taking over?  Well, clearly this wasn’t bad enough.  Clearly I wasn’t scared enough.  What did they do?  Sent in the ….oh I’m not spoiling it.  Read on dear blog land.  Read on.  I fear this could be my last post if the Gangster Squirrels get their way.

I am sitting in the sun, minding my own business.  Sun on my face, beautiful blue sky, wind in my hair…..it’s the making of a perfect lunch.

Bzzzzzz

Me: Oh! My!I jump up and flee my sunny spot.  See, I’m very allergic to bees….

Bzzzzz  Said bee now has a friend….and they are chasing me

Me: Ok self.  Stay calm.  They can smell fear.

BZZZZZZZ

Me: Holy hell they are multiplying! Said bee and bee friend now have three more bee friends.

Think girl! What do you do in a bee attack!? Um….. I racked my brain for details…..came up blank. At this point the bees are dive bombing me and all I can think of is GET YOUR ASS INSIDE.

I start doing what you ARE NOT supposed to do, which is swat madly. I am backing up, swatting and then I feel it.  Oh yes.  I stepped on something.  Something that wasn’t mulch.  Something that squished a little.  I freeze because whatever I stepped on, I have royally pissed off because it is now making a freaking hissing sound!

See! It’s REAL y’all! Wait until you hear how I got this shot.

Me: SUGAR!!!!!!!!!!!  Why I decided to scream sugar rather than sh*&?  I have no idea. Maybe because I feared it would be my last words, and I couldn’t go to Heaven cursing.

I then decide that I’m about to be bitten and left for dead outside my office.  All I can think of is: Oh GOD! Don’t let that Eat Me woman appear!   The snake is hissing madly and I realize that I am still ON the snake.  Oh.  And the bees are still dive bombing me.

I stumble and fall. Damn you hot new shoes! You are too tall for your own good!

Me:  Goodbye cruel world….  Dramatic, but fitting. At least I don’t have to deal with *insert the work event that’s driving me bonkers*……

I see something move out of the corner of my eye.  What is it?  I blink in the bright sun….

It’s a squirrel. …a damn gangster squirrel.  Sitting there. Eyeing me.  Laughing at me. On his fat, fuzzy butt.  He threw his nut at me and ran off, scoffing at me like “Take that, Bitch.”

Snake starts circling me.  The bees have done what they were sent to do, so they have left.  It’s just me and snake.  Did I mention I’m deadly terrified of snakes? I’m scrambling to get up, but all I can see is that snake and its stupid tongue flicking at me menacingly.

Coworker: Are you ok? Bends over to help me out of the mulch.

Me: mmm? I take my coworkers hand and pull myself up.

Coworker: Oh there’s a snake!  I’ve never seen a snake here in all the years I’ve been here! Bends down to inspect said snake. Snake slowly slithers away.

Me: silently mull over the fact that the Gangster Squirrels hired hit bees and a snake assassin to get me.

Coworker: Oh my God! Were you bitten? You haven’t said a word.  You are never this quiet.  Are you ok?

Me: I manage to stammer Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for helping me up.

Coworker: Ok then.  Need anything from the grocery?

Me: No…. I’m good. Thanks.

I stumble back inside, thrilled to be in the safety of my office, clear on the other side of where the hit bees and snake assassin were.  I get back to work, happy to be alive. Laughing because, though a valiant effort, I WAS NOT taken down by wild kingdom.

Me: Dear GOD.

Coworker2:What?

Me: A spider just crawled across my screen.  Don’t we have a bug guy? Why is my desk always riddled with spiders??

Coworker2 comes over to inspect and kill said spider for me.

Coworker2: SNAKE!!!! Come look! It’s right outside your window.  Hear it?

Me: frozen in terror Where?

Coworker2: leans over my desk and points

Me: You’ve GOT to be kidding me!!!!!

Coworker2: What?  I mean this is crazy! I’ve never seen a snake here before! And this one is pissed! It’s making noise like crazy!

Me: They are out to get me.

Coworker2: Um….ok Miss Snow White. Why are the snakes out to get you….

Me: scowl at coworker I was almost attacked by a snake at lunch today.  And BEES.

Coworker2: Mmhm…. Sure.

Me: For real!

Coworker2: And I suppose one of your fat ass squirrels attacked you with a shiv after.

Me: He tired! snubby face

Coworker2: Have you been drinking?

Me: No,  you know I’d share.  Hand me my phone…. I’m going to take a picture of my snake friend.

I approach window, snap picture.  Snake rares up strikes at window.

Coworker2: OH HOLY HELL!

Me: SEE!

Coworker2: The hell did you do to piss of Mother Nature?  If I see a shiv’ed squirrel, I’ll crack up.

Me: This is funny to you? I may be under siege by Mother Nature herself.  How do you think I feel?

Coworker2: Can I write your epitaph?  Here lies Snow White.  Shived by Squirrels.

Me: I hate you.

Coworker2: Buy you a drink after work?

Me: Only if you carry me to the car. I fear there are snakes.

Coworker2: They won’t be there, they’ll be IN your car. laughs menacingly

Me: Did I already say I hate you?

Coworker: Effing snakes man…. it’s still squatted by the window

Me: Maybe he’s just camera shy.

Coworker: Why is it a he and not a she?

Me: Ok fine. Let’s have that drink….

Coworker2: t-minus one hour.

Me: Thank God.

Yep. That was Awkward. April 19, 2012

I just experienced the most awkward ten minutes of my life.

My boss is naive and stuck in the 1950s.  She may be batshit crazy, with less fashion sense than the Eat Me woman, but the woman usually behaves like a lady.  So when this happened, I wasn’t sure what to do.

The boss was leaning over my shoulder to work on a project and this happened.

Me: And then you have to….

Frrrpt

Me: Um. thinking that surely that was a shoe squeak You have to click over here and…

Frrrpt

Me: Then you just type in the… oh for the love of GOD this is NOT a shoe squeak! Retreat!!!

At this point my nostrils start to flare.  The smell of rotten eggs has slapped me across my face.  My eyes are beginning to tear.  I don’t want to breathe, but I know I have to to finish my sentence.  My eyes dart up to see that the boss is still standing there acting like she didn’t just shart herself.  I would say fart, but this was far, far worse. Or at least that is what it smelled like.

Me: ok pull it together…. you can do this.  Um.  You type in the code here and then this pops up like so.

OhThankGod I got it all out in one breath. Please let her leave so I can exhale.

Frrrpt

I look squarely up at her because, this time, I just can’t let it slide.  My eyes and nose are now running and I’m stifling the “smell the fart” face.

Boss: I had chili for lunch.

Me: Oh. Well… um…. so actually… I need to go refill my coffee.

Boss: At 4:30?

Me: Yes, it is one of those days.

 

 

Miss Fix It Blows a Gasket April 12, 2012

This pretty much sums up my week.

Yeah…. that’s about right.

You know how you always have that one go-to person.  The person you call if shit goes down because you know, regardless of how he/she feels about you or the situation you got yourself in, this person will pull it together, fix the situation and calm the storm.  Case in point, bail me out of jail at o-dark-30 am.

This week, it seems all I exist to do is spin gold out of poo.  That’s my week.  Actually, who am I kidding…in my profession? With my personality? That’s sort of my life story.

Thankfully it was not as bad as the “I can’t tell… might be dead or OD’d ‘lady friend’ in the hotel room of a prominent client” night that I had to handle once a few years back…. but here’s what went down this week….and the resulting meltdown.

1) I have been placed in charge of my sister’s baby shower.  Mom was supposed to do it, but for reasons I’ll leave out for now, she has kinda checked out.  This leaves me with the planning.  Great, right? Not at all. My sister can’t agree on anything with me for the blessed event except that she wants food there…lots of food.

I plan events.  It’s kinda my thing. I realize she has a different style. (Seriously, her wedding was pot luck, no alcohol, no music except my old jambox from 6th grade playing a mix tape, no speeches/toasts/etc., there were no centerpieces, flowers, table covers or decorations…and no wedding favors for guests.  Oh.  And I was forced to wear the most hideous bridesmaids dress on the planet.)

That aside, knowing that I am paying for this shower and people sadly DO expect more from me because of my reputation and skill set…. I am having a hard time working around being told finger sandwiches are “too uppity”; punch and tea are “stupid” and the only party game she wants to play is the disgusting one where you melt candy bars in diapers.  I was also told I’m jealous because this isn’t my shower….and that since I’m so “old” and “picky”, I’ll probably never have a shower of any kind.  Ouch. :’-(  I’m trying to behave with grace.  I just really wish mom would check back in for five minutes and let me breathe.

2) Work…. I have a new title and no raise.  I’ve worked no less than 50 hours this week, and it’s just Thursday. One of the things my boss tasked me with this week?  Getting a life size cut out of her deceased husband. She mentioned it before and I was always able to slide it under the rug and ignore her.  However, this week it has been brought up four times.  She wants this to take with us to our organization’s biggest event.  She plans to charge people to have their pictures made with it….then prop it up in her office.

Boss: And if you can make one that I can transport back and forth in the car like a human, that’d be great.

Me: only in my mind, but I thought DEAR GOD.  What the hell. Someone pour me a tequila.  She’s lost it.

She also asked me, again, to make sure I “record my time donated” to our non-profit arm of the organization so that I can take it off taxes next year. Key word here? DONATED.

3) I found out that I’ll be in a new city this weekend.  I fly out at 5am one day.  Will be back at 9:30pm the next day.  Fun?  NO. I’m being flown in to run interference.  Two siblings are having a baby.  Both boys.  One is her first kid, one is her second kid.  Both are due within days.  Cool right? Nope.  Sibling rivalry is on a whole new level.  I’m there to be sure one doesn’t take down the other.  To ensure both ladies have a good time and that both feel equally loved and attended to….even though the baby shower is only for ONE sibling and the other one is fuming mad about it.  For some reason, the parents think I can help.  I’m not sure.  But I AM SURE  that I will have wine.  Lots of wine…in a flask or two…that is TSA compliant because be-damn if I check a bag for a 24 hour stay.

4) I was called to deal with a 14 year old boy who lost his mom to suicide.  Last night he was over the edge crazy and his dad admitted he was emotionally checked out.  I went in, talked the kid off the ledge, literally, played basketball with him for hours, helped him cry, then put him to bed.  I didn’t eat dinner, but apparently I was emotionally drained enough that I did get four hours of sleep in.

This is a small insight into my week.  There’s more, but I don’t have the time nor the energy to write it.  A few minutes ago, I got a call from a “friend” and I think I may have had an aneurism, a stroke…. or possibly just a fit of rage.  I’m not sure.

So this “friend” is “oh that person” to most of my girls.  We all have one…the girl who is always whiney, never happy, and is uber selfish and clingy.  That’s her.

The rule amongst my friends? Unless we’ve said otherwise, don’t call me at work unless you are bloody, broken (hearts, bones and cars apply here) or need bail.  Email me.  Text me.  I swear I’ll answer quick as I can.

Well, this “friend” I shall now refer to as Bianca.  No offense to the readers out there that have or care for a Bianca, but I’ve never met one that didn’t make me want to claw my eyes out and shove sharp objects in my ears to dull the pain.

Bianca moved out of the state, but still has a home here.  I am supposed to water the plants and let in realtors as needed.  Bianca called last week saying she is “bored” and we had words about when it was appropriate to call me and when it was not.  I thought I was crystal clear.  Apparently….my don’t call unless its an emergency rule doesn’t apply to her.

Me: Hey Bianca – what’s wrong?

Bianca: Um. Why do you answer the phone like that? Nothing’s wrong.

Me: Because it’s work.  During my busy time.  You know this.  We discussed.

Bianca: Well, I just miss you and I’m totally bored at work. I miss my **married and has two kids who I told her never to mention in front of me because I think the whole thing is fully horrible** boyfriend- its our one year anniversary; and I have no friends up here; and I have nothing to spend my money on and the weather here sucks and I am just losing my mind I’m so bored….. So how are you?

Me: silence….I can literally feel the heat coming up in my face.  Y’all.  I think I blacked out for a second.

Bianca: Um. Hello! I said I missed you.  Why don’t you ever call me?

Me: BIANCA!!!! You are either completely stupid or completely selfish.  For the life of me I can’t figure out which.  You KNOW I’m busy.  You KNOW not to call unless it’s an emergency because I answer.  GOD HELP ME, I care about people and I answer. You want to know how I am? I am F***ING FANTASTIC!!!

I work overtime all the time for a boss who’s batshit crazy.  I make less money now than I did when I graduated from college and I just found out I owe $600 in taxes.  Where in the hell is that coming from? I have no idea! I have a dad who’s got dementia, a mom who’s checked out, a baby shower to plan IN ALL MY SPARE TIME for a sister who is acting like an ungrateful witch, my heart is actually breaking in my personal life, last night after a ten hour day I dealt with a 14 year old kid who’s mom just committed suicide and this weekend my motion sick ass has to be on SEVEN F***ING PLANES in 24 hours because I can’t afford the flights that are more direct so that I can referee two sisters who have no idea how lucky they are to both be married with kids and instead want to rip each others throats out.

Bianca: Wow. You sound busy.  And did you just say f***? I’ve never heard you say that.

Me: Wow Bianca.  That’s what you took from this? Yes. I’m busy. So unless it’s an emergency – and I mean a my body’s lying in a ditch emergency – send me a F****ING email or text like EVERYONE ELSE DOES.

Then I hung up on her.  And I must say.  I feel much better.

I need a shot though.  I’m really lucky that I took my call in our boardroom.  No one was able to hear my rant… the boss is gone for the day and the other staff was wherever the crap they go when they hide from working….aka not at their desks or on premise that I could surmise.

Cheers…and let’s all get tanked tonight. Ok.  Fine.  Just a glass or two of wine.  I promise.

Vanilla Zombies March 12, 2012

I think the Monday after a time change should be a holiday. Today has been a comedy tragedy of errors.

Last night I spent the night with the folks.  This means I got up at an ungodly hour to drive in to work.  Mom, being the sweet woman she is, always sends me off with a goody bag of sorts.  I picked it up, ran out the door, flopped it and my purse on the front seat of the car.

As you know, I’ve had the plague.  I’m still not breathing properly.  In fact, my nose has been quite bitchy lately.  For instance last week, I smelled that gross, heavy, bubblegum smell for 24 whole hours.  Then, I smelled blueberries for a full 24 hours.  I don’t get it.  So, when I smelled vanilla this morning, I thought oh great…here we go again.  WRONG.

I get to work and pull my goody bag out of the front seat.  Holy hell.  There was what appeared to be milk pooled in the front seat of my car….blocked in only by my Prada purse.  And, since I had just picked up the goody bag? It was all over my cute black pants and silk top.

Immediately, I scream and drop the goody bag AND my coffee; it splats to the ground and goes all over my boots.  I pull out the Prada from it’s milky bath and that sends the liquid streaming back into the seat further. Instinctively, I throw myself on the spill to try and catch the liquid from reaching the far recesses of my car.  This, of course, soaks into the sleeves of my jacket and into the tips of my hair.  I realize it’s much more sticky than milk and most certainly smells more vanilla.

So here I am.  Hanging out of the car, milk all over the place, ruined outfit, sticky hair and a milky purse.  It can’t get much worse?

I hear a grunt.

I turn to see that zombie homeless woman from a while back!!!!  She was in the same Eat Me shirt.  Same vacant stare.  And now? She’s grunting at me.  I’m faced with two options.  1) Stay and be eaten by the zombie lady or 2) grab my purse and flee

I opted for 2.

I released the liquid, which seeped quickly into the seat (they are cloth, not leather) and deep into the recess of the seat that I can no longer see.  I’m pretty sure that car seat will never move the way its supposed to again because how DO you clean the parts you can’t see???

I grab my purse and say, “Hi there” as I back slowly away.

She lunges at me, “Uuhh!”

I scream and run, leaving the beloved goody bag behind in a pool of milky liquid.  My purse, drowned in the liquid, is leaking all down the side of my jacket and pants….marking my trail as I run.

She walks over to my goody bag, picks it up and flees.

I look down at myself.  I smell vanilla again.  The hell was in that bag???? I sniff my jacket sleeves.  I sniff my hair, which is now lovely and matted into gummy strands. I see the white stains all over my boots, pants, shirt… I looked like a victim of lactation gone very wrong.  This is NOT the look I was attempting today.

On cue, Mom calls.  Turns out? It was coffee creamer.  Mom bought a mega container, didn’t like the flavor and packed it for me.  I let out a little sob when she said, “I had a hard time getting the lid closed.  I hope it traveled ok.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her what happened.  I just thanked her.

Currently, I’m still washing stains from my clothes.  The jacket can go to the cleaners, but I think the shirt is a goner.  My boots seem fine, but my hair is now half straight, half curly…and you KNOW how my hair gets without conditioner….The purse smells like a stripper, but I think it will live.

Is it Wine-o-Clock yet?

To Infect or Not to Infect…. February 29, 2012

PIC and I do pretty much everything together.  Unfortunately for her hubby, and whatever man decides he’s brave enough to veer into my crazy life, that means we also get sick together.

Beginning Friday, our assent into the depths of what honest to God is the worst head-cold-flu-oh-god-now-its-in-my-chest-please-kill-me-now I’ve ever had.  We were supposed to have a wild weekend and spend Sunday night having an Oscar party.  The plague had other plans for us.  PIC and I did rally. In fact we managed to put on tiaras and throw out our best fashionista advice, albeit laced with cold meds, coughing and tissues.

On Monday, I came to work because I’m loyal stupid.  By Tuesday, I sounded like the crypt keeper on a really bad day.  My sweetheart of a boss proceeded to reprimand me on the etiquette of sneezing and coughing.  I just nodded.

Yes, that’s how sick I am.  I have no fight left in me.

PIC’s day was even worse.  She had to do CPR certification while not being able to breathe.  Pray tell how you do that?  PIC figured it out best she could.  But then she had to do Heimlich maneuver training. She turned to the person and said, “If you squeeze me, I’ll wheeze.”  This sent me into my own wheezing fit of laughter….and then spawned an idea.

I should totally infect my boss - AND beast!

PIC agreed with me, because she is truly my bestie and partner in all crimes.

So, I confess.  I did it.  I came in early and hacked, sneezed and any other gross germ spreader I could think of in their respective office areas.

I realize that means I am going to hell.  I realize that my karma took a massive hit.  But…. I also realize that this will at least provide me some satisfaction while PIC and I develop our plan to Gaslight the hell out of my boss.

Thank God this blog is anonymous.   I feel like I just hit the confessional and I’m now absolved.

Cold Med Induced Advice of the Day: This year, specifically today, is a bonus day.  Do something fun.  Do something memorable.  So far all I did was infect my boss and coworker with the plague.  I should probably aim higher for the rest of the day…..

Happy Leap Day!

It Is Totally Worth It February 23, 2012

I am probably going to get fired.  And you know what….it will totally be worth it.  I’m going to need your help though.

My boss is, shall we just say, special.  This week’s conversations have been to add an entirely new job onto my plate; tell me I need to plan on being oncall 24/7 for two months in the immediate future; then to inform me that I would not be getting a raise….nor added time off…and that I should help out Beast because, she’s overwhelmed.

A little vein exploded in my head and all I could think was OVERWHELMED?!!  MY ASS.  Since when does online shopping constitute overwhelmed? Perks of being the boss’ kid….I’M OUT!!!!

Have you seen the movie Gaslight?  Well.  If you haven’t, check this out: click here to read up on the movie Gaslight.  I’m twisted, I know.

Here’s the part where I’m pretty sure I’m at the very least going to hell over, if I’m not fired.  My boss has lost her husband.  I wish I could tell you he was a lovely man.  I wish I could tell you we all miss him.  This is not the case.  In a post to come in the future, perhaps I can share the terrible things that he did to me which included:

1. throwing a muffin at my head
2. leaving me stranded at a Kinko’s
3. making a poor kid AT said Kinko’s wet his pants.  Seriously y’all.
4. telling me I was illiterate and incompetent
5. telling me he didn’t know why I was put on this earth because all I did was suck it dry

Yes.  As you can see, he’s a charmer.  Was.  Rest his soul.

So.  My boss has it in her head that she can communicate with him.  She has decided that they were connected on a spiritual plane in past lives, and will connect again.  Indeed, they communicate via telepath or some such person each month.  Everyone, all the upper staff included, think she’s bat-shit-bananas.  And…I’m totally going to exploit this.

I want to Gaslight her.  She’s either going to think she is crazy, or that she’s right and her dead husband CAN communicate with her….and then who knows.  At the least, I’m entertained and looking for a new job.  At best, she’s happier because she is reconnecting with her dead husband and PERHAPS I’ll get a raise because the powers that be have deemed I need to step in.

So….what do I do? I have no idea, but I know I have to shake it up here or go crazy.  Thank God it’s a PIC night.  I am sure we will plot.  And drink.  The best ideas come out of a wine slushie right?

Really Beast…You are Killing Me. February 6, 2012

Y’all.  I’ve had it today. It’s Monday, early afternoon, and I’m ready to punch a bitch.  And by bitch, I mean Beast.  Beast, my coworker, has been in rare form today…even for her.  Don’t know Beast?  Read here.

Here’s my morning:

• being told I wasn’t recycling right (I put it in the proper can.  How is the wrong?!)
•  forced to answer three phone lines at once while she filed her nails…literally.
• told I was looking haggard (I think she’s jealous, I have on my Tiffany blue cardigan with diamond looking buttons -  perfectly accented jewelry and shoes. I look freaking adorable.)
• critiqued endlessly on every single thing I did today thus far
• asked to quit typing so loudly (Now I’m doing it just to piss her off.)

Then, she went and pulled this:

Beast: So. What did you think of the National Anthem last night during the big game?

Me: honestly and truly, still attempting to be perky after all the above  Oh I thought she was great! I love her!

Beast: Hmh. Figures you’d think that.

Me: seething, blinking, remembering to breathe, forcing myself not to acknowledge her

Beast: Yea. She hit a couple notes that were wrong.  You know I have perfect pitch hearing.

Me: still ignoring

Beast: Hm. Well…you wouldn’t know anything about that. You don’t have a famous mom.

Me: OH SHUT THE HELL UP YOU STUPID PIECE OF LARD. ok, I just said that part in my mind…..Um, I thought she was great – and I also thought she looked adorable.

Beast: Really?!  HAHAHA. I hated her hair.  What is she, like 12? I guess you’d like that prissy girl.

Me: I do the death turn. This means I slowly turn my head, just my head, in your direction, give you the “shit is about to get real” look, then dare you to speak. 

Beast: Yea, you really do look awful today. What..you didn’t sleep again? Sucks to be you!

Me: Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. The. Rest. Of. The. Day. Understand?

Beast: Whatever prissy pants.

Me: Did I stutter? Lose the attitude….and the “Fear the Turtle” shirt. It’s juvenile and … it accentuates your stomach sweetie. I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell for that one. But…. ya know.

So because of Beast, I’m revising the drinking game I initially created for her. I might need a new liver if I don’t.

One Beverage of your Choice:

• Every time Beast rolls back in her chair and you are unable to avoid speaking to her OR she looms at your desk and you break your vow of silence
• Each time she says, “You’re just wrong!” or heaves a heavy, disapproving sigh.
• Each time Beast cops a fake Southern accent
• Each time Beast leaves for over an hour and doesn’t tell you goodbye or where she’s going

One Shot:

• Every day I’m the first one here, last to leave
• Every time Beast says “Well, that’s not MY problem.”
• Every time Beast attempts to make you feel stupid, inferior or less beautiful than any human should…BEFORE noon.

Here is the tally for the day: 4 beverages and 6 shots.  Hmmm.  Maybe this still isn’t good for my liver….I need a new job y’all.

I Think I’m Down By One February 3, 2012

I’ve never been happier that I have full bladder control. I’m pretty sure what just happened would have left less stellar bladders void, thus causing major embarrassment in the office setting.

I think my heart may have stopped for a microsecond. And I’m certain one of my nine lives is gone…actually, I think that drops me to 6…but those are stories for another day.

Here’s what happened.

As you know, I work in crazy town. A place where the membership isless than stellarand the outdoor animals run amok.

Today, I had my floor to ceiling window blinds shut tight.  It got dark, so I decided I needed to let in some light.  I walk around my desk to open the blinds and here is what happened:

Me: Fu…www…aaaantastic. Oh my God!

I freeze in abject terror, my hands drawn up to my face a la all those goofy movie trailers you see where people have the absolute shit scared out of them.  Yeah.  That actually happened so I can no longer say “oh COME on” when I see these trailers heretofore.

I see before me what I’m pretty sure was a zombie homeless woman.  She was just standing there, vacantly staring into the window, her face barely grazing the glass, yet no breath marks are on the window pane.  She has deep circles under her brown eyes, her hair is long, dark and scraggly.  If Medusa was a hippy and had dreads, this is what it would look like.

She wore a t-shirt, torn at the neck from wear. It said “EAT ME” on it.  A lovely sentiment.

I unfreeze for a moment and forget that there is a desk behind me.  I start to back up a little, and at the moment my ass hits the edge of the desk, the Eat Me woman bangs her fist on the window and grunts.

Me: HOLY S…h…

Thankfully, the rest of that statement was completely overshadowed by the fact I had somersaulted backwards over my desk, landed in the floor, knocked over my plant and pen cup, and had somehow wrapped myself in the phone, pulling it out of the wall.

I think I blacked out for a second. I got my wits about me and looked up just in time to see the zombie Eat Me woman run like something out of 28 Days, arms and legs all flailing…she scaled our fence and ran across the heavily trafficked road to the bus station.

All I could do is put my head back down.  Oh the comfort of the floor.  Thank God I opted for pants today.  I began to feel my heart resume beating.  I sat up and looked across the office to see who witnessed my demise.

Coworker 1: That was some funny shit.

Coworker 2: I seriously thought you were out cold.

Me: I hate you both. Seriously.

Coworker 1: Totally worth it.  That’s priceless.  Princess down!  But, you kept the Pradas on.  Good job.

Me: She was freakin’ undead over here – grunting and banging the glass!! It was terrifying!

Coworker 2: You almost cursed. I can die happy.

Me: Seriously. That’s what you get from me almost dying???  How about “are you ok?”  You both suck.

Here’s hoping your Friday wasn’t cracked out and creepy like mine.

Me

Hoot-Dawg, Meat Suits and Hashtags January 30, 2012

I fully intended to write something different today.  However, something just happened and I needed to share.

I work with a women’s organization.  Four times a year we have a rather important group gather here at the office to do business stuff.  These women average around the age of 65 and are wildly successful in their normal day-to-day lives. If I didn’t witness this, I’d say you were lying.  But no.  This really happened. All of it.

First order of business today? Let me talk to them about the meaning of the hashtag.  You all know it: #.  Here’s how that all went down:

Me: A hashtag looks like this: # And it’s primary use for us is to mark important….

Member1: That’s a pound sign.

Me: Yes. The symbol also is known as a pound sign.

Member 2: That’s stupid.

Me: Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.  So.  As I was saying, we use it in our Twitter feeds to designate key words….

Member 3: That’s the number sign too.

Member 1: RIGHT! Why can’t we just call it that- this tag hash thing is confusing.

Me: It’s quite simple actually if you’d let me finish.

Member 2: Does it involve hash or tagging?

(Room erupts in laughter)

Me: Pardon? Um… it does involve tagging.  As I was saying….

Member 1: Do we have to do this or can you just handle it?

Me: You all requested me to speak on this, correct?

Member 3: Yes but this is boring and complicated.

Me: Blink. Blink. Blink.

**********

I was at my desk, which is tragically located near both the conference room and the main traffic area.  I hear this:

Member 1: She was wearing…. get this….a meat suit.  Serious hand to God, made out of real meat.

Member 2: WHAT???

I envision her clutching her pearls and it makes me giggle.

Member 3: That’s unsanitary.

Member 1: Right! I didn’t believe my daughter, but she showed me pictures online.

Member 2: That’s disgusting.

Member 3: Who does she think she is?

Member 1: I’m not sure, but she’s royalty.  Her name is Lady something.

At this point I can’t control it any longer and I burst with laughter.  So much so that I had to flee from my cubicle, hands over mouth.  I think they thought I might be ill.  But, that doesn’t really surprise any of them considering who I work with….bless him.

***********************

This started as an innocent remark that went way down Beevus and Butthead lane.

Coworker: So, ladies, where would you like us to cater your lunch today?  The only place that’s not open since your last visit is Hooters.  It closed a few months back.

Member 1: chuckle

Member 2: giggle snort

Member 3: WAHHAHAHAHA

Coworker looks at me – we blink and exchange um… why are they laughing looks.

Member 1: she said Hooters.

Member 2: I’ll show you hooters!  shakes her chest towards the other members

Member 3: Is laughing so hard she is now crying and wheezing.  That’s…so….funny….

Member 1: We went there last time – remember girls?

Member 2: That was so funny!!!  Hoot-Dawgs in the house!

Member 3: SHHHH! Staff is here!!!

Member 1: Makes a zip the lip gesture and then shakes her chest wildly.

Member 2: Throws some gang sign and does the same.

Member 3: Throws a new sign and then they all three chest butt.

Coworker: So…. I recommend the new mexican restaurant down the street…..

Me: They make a mean burrito.

Members 1, 2 & 3: WAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

Coworker: I’ll leave the menu book here for you ladies.  Let us know what you decide.

Incidentally, they picked another chain restaurant.  They also opted to go eat there rather than us bring it in.  I can only imagine what holy hell they unleashed on the poor servers.  Bless….  So, blogland….be on the lookout for old ladies with beehive hair.  They are up to no good I guarantee….but it’ll probably amuse you.

Where’s my wine?  Is it wine o clock yet?
Me