Mondays SUCK! If you don’t agree with me, I will go and shave “Bee rocks!” on your head. Are we in agreement? Good!
Anyway, Mondays usually find me hung-over (even though I don’t drink, I still wake up with a fuzzy tongue- I know you want to make THAT joke but if you value your life... nah. Go ahead, pull the trigger.) unwilling to get up, debating whether I NEED to take a shower (the answer is always "YES" by the way), bemoaning my lack of millions of dollars so that I can hire valets that will put all my body parts back together again.
I’m the female, new-age version of Humpty Dumpty. Only my name is Hairy Dumpy. Yeah, I LIKE IT! ***Observation. Word agreed with my spelling of “Humpty” but disagreed with the spelling of “Dumpty” and didn’t give me a spelling alternative, don’t these two go together??
So… where the hell was I? Oh yeah! Mondays.
These are the days my mood is, how shall I put it? At it's most dangerous or SEVERELY UNFRIENDLY. I’m snarly until at least 11:59 pm AT LEAST.
Most people know this and stay away. Some people think they’re from the cat family and keep testing their 9 lives theory. So far, 2 dead 1 confirmed catperson.
I walked into the office, turned on my computer, then went to the kitchen to make coffee.
Scarecrow walks in, obviously knowing I hadn’t had my coffee since I was in the process of making it, not a good sign. I'm even less pleasant, IF POSSIBLE, before my coffee.
Have you seen Patient X’s chart?
Bee: [maintaining my patience]
Doesn’t sound familiar.
Scarecrow: [not very good at reading warning signs]
I think you had it last.
Bee: [in a half snarl]
HAD would probably be your first clue that I don’t have it NOW.
Scarecrow: [dense head]
I did look on your desk and didn’t find it…
Bee: [looking at her encouragingly]
Okay. Maybe you should try plan “B” and look somewhere else?
Scarecrow: [I've known doorknobs with more intelligence]
I could have sworn you had it.
Bee: [explaining to this middle aged child]
Work with me here, isn’t HAD the past tense of TO HAVE?
Scarecrow: [beginning to sweat]
I was just hoping you put it somewhere else.
Bee: [big eyes, clown face]
Like where? In my car? On a plane? On a train? In a box? With 3 locks?
Fine. I’ll look somewhere else!
Bee: [singsong voice, arms outstretched, total ham]
In a field of clovers? With a dog named rover?
Scarecrow: [baring her teeth or um... gums]
In a junkyard? Crap! What rhymes with yard?-
OZ: [Wheezing FROM HIS OFFICE THAT'S NEXT TO THE KITCHEN]
Bee: [a little startled that the boss is participating but taking it in stride]
In a junkyard? With a tub of lard?
Scarecrow walks out bumps into OZ as he's walking.
OZ: [shaking his head, wheeze laughing]
No, "In a junkyard? While burying lard?" Sounds better.
Bee: [blushing cuz I'm such a dumbass]
Who buries lard?
OZ: [still laughing]
You can’t dump that stuff down the drain! The lard would clog it!
Here's my question, isn't mine better? A tub of lard instead of burying lard?
I wonder if OZ was always a wise ass or if he got corrupted my lil' ole me.
Well, at least my day got get batter after that.
Andy came by the office to pick something up, --looking super hawt in his scruffy electrical wear--, and he had this observation "The receptionist lady (AKA Cowardly Lion) doesn't seem to be too happy with you."
That's probably because I've restricted her peeing to when I deem it is appropriate. To dictate, is to love.