Back to work we go!

 

Thursday night.

Andy: Sucks you have to work tomorrow.

Me: Yep.

Andy: Maybe you shouldn't use all your vacation time so early in the year.

Me: I know. I'm going to try and save 2 days next year just for the day before and day after Thanksgiving. That way I can hit all the door buster sales.

Andy:  You know what? Maybe it's best you work the day after Thanksgiving. Our bank account appreciates it.

Boys just don't understand!

It used to be that all offices had the day off the day after Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, there are a lot of companies that are finding it difficult to pay their employees so they are making them drag their asses in to work. OZ has only given us the day off once in my 4 years working there so I knew I'd have to pick up my weary bones on Friday and head to the Asylum. He normally takes the day off so it's not too painful because I can just put on a pair of sweats and not have to worry about my appearance too much. This year, however, he decided to see patients.

Friday Morning, day after Thanksgiving, I was watching the front desk for Cowardly Lion, the receptionist, while she got coffee. It was so early, my top and bottom lashes were still sealed shut.

Male patient: I would hate to work in a place that's open the day after Thanksgiving!

Me: It's no big deal. We're closing at noon so...

Patient: [leans in towards me and invades my personal space] Yeah but you still had to get up early and drive all the way over here.

Me: And me being sick and all. [coughing violently]

Patient backs away and goes to sit down. 

Later in the morning, I was watching the front desk while the receptionist went to the restroom.

Patient checking in: I was thinking of rescheduling my appointment today but I thought, if you guys were going to be open, might as well make you work hard.
[laughs hysterically]

Me: Oh, I see you're getting your cast removed today. I'll make a note on your chart so that they'll use the special saw.

Patient [jaw dropped]: The special saw?

Me: I'm just kidding! That's what I call my "bitter, day after Thanksgiving, sense of humor".

Patient: I'm sorry you have to work the day after Thanksgiving.

Me: Me too.

After the patient left, Glynda came into the business office.

Glynda: Did you tell that patient you were going to tell us to use a special saw.

Me: Yep. In my defense, he pissed me off.

Glynda: Well he told OZ.

Me [pretending not to be interested but in reality crapping my pants (in a ladylike way)]: Yeah?

Glynda: OZ laughed and told him you had a special skill set we use against attorneys and insurance companies but you weren't really a people person because of your evil streak.

Me: Here I thought I hid it well.

Glynda: I don't know what to say.

Me: "Good job?"  "You Rock?" "Don't relieve the receptionist anymore?" all of these are acceptable.

She didn't respond.

I will be turning in my vacation sheet taking the day after Thanksgiving off as soon as 2010 hits my calendar.

The post where I declare I'll be back after Thanksgiving Thursday, Black Friday, Polka Dot (Hi jean knee!) Saturday and Blue Sunday.

Yep. The title says it all!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

My sister's FAMOUS Green Bean casserole

P.S.
I'm feeling better, my cough is almost gone. My brain is back to full capacity which means I can add 7+9 without the use of a calculator. Okay, maybe not that high of numbers maybe uh 3+7 (TEN!) which means I will actually be posting and not just giving you a boring account of my cleaning habits fascinating as they may be. Probably.

Stay tuned for a Bee's Musings (I was typing this at work so I abbreviated my blog name to "BM" in case this post fell into the wrong hands and that's when I realized BM is what we most commonly refer to our bowel movements so now that will be my motto "Bee's Musings, it keeps you regular!") style Cribs (Brian, Cribs is an MTV show where famous musicians, actors and athletes feature their homes and say stuff like "this is where the magic happens!" when referring to their bedroom)(Brian, MTV is a channel for "young" people and it used to stand for MUSIC Television where they featured music videos but now, not so young people, like me, watch it and the only time they'll  show a music video is after a show like Cribs ends and then it's only a 30 second snippet)(Brian, a music video is-- Just kidding, Brian!) where I take advantage of my house being clean to show you a glimpse into the chaos.

Confused? Have a cocktail (or 10) and everything will make sense.

Another exciting adventure...

Today I will be cleaning and preparing my house for Thanksgiving.

The majority of my chores are as exciting as chores can be, killing dust bunnies, washing windows, coaxing Andy into cleaning his dungeon, etc.

The one thing I absolutely hate doing is scrubbing the bathroom. It's wall to wall tile and the tub is about 12,000 feet deep. I need spelunking gear just to wash jacuzzi jets. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I actually used the tub to have a nice soak but there's something about sitting in water, making Bee soup, that I find repulsive.

I'm not kidding when I say it takes me an hour to clean it from top to bottom.

Oh joy.

So anyway, think of me every time you go to use your bathroom today.

Photo blogging- sort of...

I'm still sick.

I haven't been able to sleep well due to coughing fits so I've been functioning on automatic pilot.

Because of that, my blogging time has suffered.

[wait for cries of shame to die down]

I've decided to take random activities and post about them as if they were the most interesting content to be found on the Internet. Here is the first one:

Today I am having a Tex-Mex Chicken panini from Lean Cuisine.

I used the knife you see there to cut it in half so that the contents don't end up in my cleavage.

What sucks is that now I have to wash the knife with the cheap sponge that's in the kitchen. I may have to scrub it forever to remove the caked on panininess.

Maybe I'll just throw it away.

And that is my exciting lunch tale!

This is why I don't like to come in early.

I've been sitting outside for a half hour, waiting for a key holder to
come in and unlock the door.

I could have slept for another half an hour and gotten more beauty sleep. At my age, I need all the help I can get

Once upon a time there was a family of ugly globs living in my lungs...

 

It all started on Friday THE THIRTEENTH ooh spoooooky!

I came down with some bug. Last year I was rarely sick but it seems this year will be the year of the Funkyflus for me.

As you may or may not know, you simply cannot be sick while working at the Asylum. People immediately start shielding themselves from you and spraying every area you touch with bleachlike substances. While your hand is still touching the object! I don't know why they treat people like pariahs when they're ill. With the exception of OZ, it's not like we go out licking unsanitary hookers on purpose!

So, I decided to keep my illness (which I believe was passed on to me by that evil OZ!) on the down-low. Unfortunately for me, at the earliest sign of any illness, my voice is the first to go. Added to that, I have this creepy cough that I haven't been able to get rid of for over a month. That cough has irritated my throat and, I'm assuming because I am not a licensed professional, my vocal chords. So instead of my sweet HIGH PITCHED voice OF A NINE YEAR OLD, I sound like a 1920s hustler whose had too many cigarettes, booze and good times. The voice is a little less Mae West and a lot more Elmer Fudd-y. I will call this my alter ego and name her Lullibell. What the hell was I talking about? Oh right! I'm sick.

I went to work and as soon as I said something, everyone pounced on me.

"Are you sick?"
"Sounds like something's cookin'!"
"Your hair looks great!"

I told them I felt fine but I felt a little congested. Immediately Glynda told me to go home. Since I no longer have any more time off left in the season, I told her that I would go home if they paid me for the day. She stared at me blankly and said "No, but I don't want you to give it to us" and that's when I said "This is harassment!" no I actually told her that if she did not get it from kissing OZ's ass, then she wouldn't get it from me.

I struggled the whole day to appear healthy but once I got home that evening, my bravado evaporated. I sat on the sofa coughing and whimpering, waiting for Tom Cruise to come heal me. Bastard never showed.

I managed to run some errands on Saturday but on Sunday all I did was wallow in self pity, vowing to make the world a bitter place if I came out of this alive.

On Monday, I called in sick because I had trouble sleeping and I knew I would look like a zombie on meth and therefore be judged by the bats because even though looking like zombies on meth is their permanent look, it's unacceptable for me to come down with any illness. I decided to stay home and rest. I slept until 2pm. TWO PM! It was almost dinner time! I felt better, still a little cough-y but the headache and lightheadedness were gone.

Join me in the present day, Tuesday, where I'm driving to work and practicing my 'good mornings' because I don't want my voice to sound all scratchy when I greet Glynda.

First, I sounded like Lurch  "Good morning!" nope try again "GOOD MORNING!" that sounded like Jack McFarland on helium. Bring it down a few notches "Good morning!" now I'm Oscar the freaking Grouch! Good, I'm getting closer! I would be able to fool people into thinking I was 100% better and they wouldn't irritate me with their obnoxious insinuations of me infecting the whole office thereby taking years off their lives. I high fived myself in the rear view mirror and that's when I realized . . .

My life? Pathetic.

Interview with Robert Kroese author of Mercury Falls.

 

 

Mercury Falls

In full disclosure, I received this book for free from Rob Kroese. This in no way shape or form alters what I would say about the book because I have also been giving free paella and I've never felt the need to lie and say I liked it when in fact it made me want to rip my tongue out of my mouth and then jackhammer it into oblivion. It still makes me shiver!

Anyway, here we go:

Rob, I was pleasantly surprised to find I really liked your book. Not to say I doubted your talent but I honestly didn't know what to expect.

I've read around the Internet where people are comparing your book to Kevin Smith's Dogma but, while the subject matter is similar, I have to say that the dialogue reminded me more of the Princes Bride (book and movie). That is not an insult by the way because I love the Princess Bride (book and movie). The back and forth between the character was always entertaining.

Since I am no more a book reviewer than I am an interviewer, I decided to simply say that you wrote a great book and people should go buy it here:

Amazon-Mercury Falls

I do have a few questions I'd like to ask you if you don't mind. Also, please answer my questions with a British accent because, like I've said before, you sound like Hugh Laurie in my head.

Q:
Your book opens with one of the main characters reporting on doomsday cults, basically ridiculing their whole philosophy and shining a light on their hypocrisy, were you giggling as you wrote each sentence?

The funny thing about that opening scene is that it was about the last thing I wrote. I had the whole book done and then I realized I needed a better opening scene to introduce the main character, Christine, and explain why she's so burned out with her job. And while that chapter is one of my favorite parts of the book, I didn't actually giggle through it. I did, however, laugh maniacally through the whole "history of apocalypse-related linoleum shortages" in the beginning. It's probably nowhere near as funny as I thought it was, but that was one part where I really did laugh out loud while I was writing it. 

By the way, I take the comparison to The Princess Bride as a big compliment. The movie has some wonderful dialog. I haven't read the book, but it's one of my wife's favorites.

Q:
I'm sure a lot of people have asked you this question, what made you pick The Apocalypse as the topic for your book? And answering 'a bad burrito' is not an option.

The book really started with the idea of Mercury, this angel who is basically a good guy but has no interest in doing what he's been told to. I wanted to get Mercury in a lot of trouble with his superiors, and I figured the best way to do that would be to give him some kind of really important job that he doesn't want to do. And what's more important than the apocalypse?

So Mercury is supposed to be helping out with the apocalypse, but he's just not interested. He's a little like Ron Livingston's character in "Office Space." He doesn't want to do his job, but he doesn't really want to quit either. So he plays ping-pong. 

Q:
While I am a reasonably intelligent chick (most days), do you feel your book was written in a manner that can only be enjoyed by people with superior brain power?

Nah, plenty of stupid people have told me they love the book.

Actually, my wife told me I use "too many big words" too, but hey, if I'm going to entertain you, then by golly, I'm gonna learn you something too. Anyway, you can just skip the big words and philosophical tangents. Basically it's an adventure story with a lot of explosions.

Q:
There was a blogger, and I apologize for not remembering who, that reviewed your book and stated he enjoyed it but he also commented that the one drawback was the cover illustration and then he used a fancy word for *font spacing*. I personally do not have a problem with it because I once did an experiment where I bought 5 random books based solely on the cover (a post for another day) and my conclusions were all over the place, is there something you'd like to clear up/explain/shrug and say 'stuff it!' here?

Yeah, that was Dave from Blogography. I was actually thrilled that he liked the book, because he's not the sort of person to give you a good review to soothe your ego.

As for his comments on the cover, well, he's a graphic designer and I'm not. I bow to his expertise. :)

[This is Bee, I just checked out Dave's site, Blogography and he does have mad skills! (do kids still say that?)]

Q:
When your book is made into a movie, can I be cast as Christine? You describe her as having odd features that don't really belong together but for some reason make her face fascinating, do I or do I not look exactly like the image of Christine in your head?:

 

I see you more as Katie Midford, the mysterious author of the best selling (and possibly demon-inspired) Charlie Nyx books. I believe she is described as "middle-aged but not unattractive."

Q:
Along the same lines of the above question, when the movie comes out and the producers tell you that they require you to use this song as the background music for a scene, in what sequence of events would you place this hcrappy, why-on-earth-is-this-playing-on-my-radio, song?

I love that song. It's like Death Cab for Cutie meets They Might Be Giants. I'd like that song to be played at low volume, almost subliminally, throughout the whole movie.

Q:
When my husband gave me a dog for our 5th anniversary, I had a witch of a time finding a name for her and finally went with a suggestion from my sister. That's why I was so amazed you came up with all those angel names! Can you tell us what you used for inspiration? And answering 'tequila' is not an option (but it is an adventure).

For a few of them, I Googled "angel names" and picked ones that sounded good. I made up "Ederatz" and "Izbazel." Another one, Bamrud, was named after a friend of my wife's.

My favorite character, by the way, is Perpetiel ("Perp" for short). He's such a helpful little runt.

Q:
Would you think less of me if I told you I can't say the word Apocalypse unless I'm look at it? And by *it* I mean the word, not the actual event. It always comes out like this: wait, let me close my eyes. . . Apclopyse, Acopolypse, Rutabaga!

Rutabaga was actually the original name of the book of Revelation in the Bible. A secret organization named Opus Vegi made the Church change it in the 4th century A.D. So you're good.

And to end the interview:

Q:
What would you say distinguishes you and your book  from other authors who are mass producing vampire books (besides the lack of vampires, better writing, better story plot, better characters and self respect?)?

Lack of success?

Seriously, I can't be too hard on those writers. It's just too bad that the publishing industry has gotten to the point where unless your book fits the current bestseller mold, you can't get any interest. I wrote the sort of book that I would want to read, and if other people want to read it to, that's fantastic. But if not, at least I've written a book I'm proud of.

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

You can google angel names? Who knew?

Rob Kroese, ladies and gentlemen! Go buy his book!

How does a girl spend her 37th birthday? Glad you asked!

I woke up bleary eyed and stumbling, as per usual, and received my birthday hug from my Andy along with a beautiful card full of words of love and shmoopiness.

Who has 2 thumbs and is blessed to have a great man? [thumbs pointing at myself] This girl!

I then went to the mirror to yawn and admire my beauty before I showered and that's when I noticed— Have any of you experienced that eerie feeling of dread when you're brushing your teeth and you're afraid of looking in the mirror because it may not be your face looking back at you but that of a sinister being with shiny red eyes and sharp teeth? Well that's what happened to me on my birthday!

(why couldn't this have happened on Halloween?? I would have had a ton of fun scaring the little people!)

It seems I'm allergic to the new eyeliner I bought and neglected to remove before going to bed last night. I remember my thought was "meh. I'm all cozy in bed, what harm can it do?" well, it can make your eyes blood red and give the appearance of pink eye, that's what!

I had to go the whole day of my birthday responding to the "Oh, you have pink eye!" comment everybody was making.

"No, I do not have pink eye you sick bitches! I'm allergic to my new eyeliner" and then they would look at me out of the corner of their eye as they made
their way out of my *pink eye infested* space.

It is a serious insult to ask someone if they have pink eye. I'd rather people ask me if I know how to speak Mexican (you'd be surprised how many times I have
to respond with "do you know how to speak Unitedstatesofamerican?").

Terrifying eyes aside, I did enjoy the day. After I removed the sheet of ice from my car.

 

Which brings me to another question, how did Alex from Madagascar get in my car?

I haven't chauffeured a munchkin in years!

Thank you to all who wished me a happy birthday on the blogus, facebook, email, text message, phone call, via card and in person. You guys rock! Almost as much as I do.

 

Stay tuned on Friday for my interview with Robert Kroese, Author of Mercury Falls, dude behind Mattress Police and Humor Blogs.

I will ask hard hitting questions like, "If you were a chair, what kind of chair would you be... and why?" serious stuff right there!

Ahhhh 37! I liked you better when you were 10 years younger!

♪♫ Today is my birthday! thun thun thun thun thun!!

I still have to go to work! Bhun nunanunun!!

I had to buy my own cake to bring to the asylum! Ledadidadee!!

Everybody, including Andy, thought my birthday was on the wrong day!  Peepampeepapoo!!

I suck at rhyming! Fafeefufafoo!!

I'm dehydrated from all of the booze! Baneeneenanonoo!!
... ... ... ♪♫

I'm at a loss on how to end the song.

Anyway.

I know it's my birthday but I, being the giver that I am, have a gift for you. An embarrassing picture of me at age 7/8/9ish?

I know you have a lot of questions. "Where did you buy your cool guy shirt?" "Were those glasses as big as your head?" Why OH WHY did someone take a picture of you in the BATHROOM?"

I can answer your questions or I can dance instead!

Vogue with me people!! 

My mind? Gone!

Clarification, Pontification, Stupefaction. I think.

Just to clarify, my birthday isn't until Wednesday November 11th. Oh joy of joys. 37. 3 more and I get a set of spatulas. I'm registered at Tiffany's.

The picture I posted yesterday was of a bee (get it? because I'm Bee?] hanging from a noose. The Asylum was getting to me until I realized I could either work or play. Guess which one I chose. Also, Andy thought it was a potato.

Andy [from his dungeon]: Is that a potato? 

Me: What? Is what a potato?? [as I'm trying to make fajitas for 8 without setting fire to my cabinets. You know, again]

Andy: The picture on your blog, is it a potato?

Me: Nooooo. It's a bee.

Andy: I don't get it.

Me: It's a bee hanging from a noose. Because I was stressed at work?

Andy: Oh, I hadn't seen the noose.

Me: ... [hot oil splashing on my face]

Andy: I still think it looks like a potato.

Because he loves to torture me.

►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄

Regarding OZ being an asswipe. Instead of feeling sympathy for the error in my bank account, he interrogated me because I asked for a copy of my cashed paycheck and treated me like a sneaky criminal who was capable of funneling money from his account to my account via my paycheck. Oh wait. That's not criminal at all, right? I mean, if I perform a service for, let's say, a person who hires me, shouldn't I expect payment? It's not like I can cash the same check twice and to make matters more complicated, the second time I cash the check it will be via a photocopy. I know I'm a genius but even I have my limitations.

For some reason he didn't believe the bank teller had deposited my check into the wrong account. He also found it hard to believe that Andy knew our account number by heart and then he suggested I no longer do a manual deposit slip, did I know that the bank could generate some with our account number already on them? I asked him if he treated accident patients the same way. "When a guy on a motorcycle gets hit by a car, do you berate them for not knowing the car was going to hit them?" It wasn't our fault the cashier decided to guess as to what number was on the deposit slip and didn't bother to check the name on the account with the name on the deposit slip.

I said to Andy, 'you know, I grow tired of calling him an *asshole* because it does not express the magnitude of my disgust for him but I am so limited with my swears (because I am a God fearing short woman). Wait! You are the master of profanity, give me a new one for him!" His response was so vile I am putting it at the end of this post.* Who knew I had the delicate sensibilities of a fragile little hummingbird?

►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄

Do you guys remember the dude I translated for who had an ankle fracture and his main concern was having "relations" with his woman? He came in last week to drop off some insurance paperwork. I had been talking to him for a few minutes when I realized something.

Me: Hey, who drove you here? [as I pointed at his cast and crutches]

Him: I drove myself. My woman doesn't drive. [hmmmm]

Me: Uh, I don't think you should be driving considering your cast is all the way up to your knee.

Him: Oh, I'm okay. Look, I can put weight on my leg now. [stands on leg with the fracture]

Me to him: Don't do that! [to myself "Oh sure, you don't ask permission to drive but you ask for a green light to have sex with your woman!]

 

My head hurts from all the shaking of it.

 

 

 

 

*"You mean like Taint Weasel?" (eep!)

 

 

 

►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄►►◄◄

 

 

My happy place

 

'Nuff said

♪♫ Here's the mail it never fails it makes me want to wag my tail MAIL!! ♪♫

So, I received my first birthday card of the year. It was from my friend Brian:

 

Then he left the country so that I wouldn't use his head as a soccer ball.

I mean, grey hair? Really? Not even if my brain turned into mush and I had to communicate like this "Waaaalgreen's hairsh dryeesh!" (sorry if that offends any of you drunkies). I have no control over wrinkles but my hair will bend to my will!

Thank you, Brian!   

 

Anyway! The winner of Robert Kroese's novel, Mercury Falls,  iiiiiiiiiiiis!

Heather K. (who may or may not want to send me her address considering I threatened to leave Tazz at her home as my calling card)! Congratulations!

You know what else is cool, Heather? Since this copy was not signed by Rob, I myself will sign it! I know! You will have a one of a kind, only used for signing paychecks, Bee autograph! (Don't worry, a little white out and the book will be good as new!)

Rob's interview to come next week because I suck at homework.

I not only hate my job but the man behind the curtain can suck it too!

So. I had a bad fucking day today. It started with my bank saying we never deposited my paycheck on Saturday and that was all because they couldn't tell if my Andy had written an *8* or a *9* as our account number so the idiot teller decided to toss a coin and went with the wrong number.

Unfortunately for us, we couldn't find our receipt. I asked for a copy of my paycheck from OZ and Glynda and they acted as if I was trying to steal the Mona Lisa and after an hour of the 3rd degree, they relented. Then Andy called me to tell me he found the receipt so all was roses, right?

Wrong. Apparently I still look like shifty thief so OZ asked to see a copy of my bank receipt and the people I  spoke to at the bank.

I came home, talked to Andy and we decided to give him the info on the people we talked to but we put in writing how he was not entitled to my personal bank receipt so in essence we wrote him a big FUCK YOU letter but we did it in such a professional manner he won't have no choice but to kiss my ass.
How paranoid and stupid can one be?
 
Anyway, I'll be back later with details on who won the book.

Norm!

I was walking to the mailbox located in the building today and I saw Norm standing by the entrance. Having a lot of work to do but not really caring, I went over to say hi and see if there was anything new.

Me: What's shakin bakin?

Norm [looks at me sideways]: Who are you, Chuck Woolery?

Me: Who?

Norm: Never mind. I can smell the weather changing. Pretty soon I'm gonna have a couple of hundred people ragging on me because of the icy parking lot.

Me: jerks.

Norm [shrugs]: You can't please everybody. Some people complain that we drop too much salt and [uses high pitched whiney voice] their pretty shoes are getting ruined. I ask them all if they fell on their heads one too many times and think they're living in Hawaii. This is Chi-freakin-cago for cripes sake! Know that when you walk out the door your ass may be skating through the parking lot.

Me: I bought sensible winter shoes last year to prevent exactly that.

Norm: The plastic surgeon used to give me a lot of guff. I'm interested to see if he says anything this year. If he does I'll say "Dr, you and I can both appreciate being between a rock and a hard place." HAHAHAHAHA!! Get it?

Me: Will you yell at me if I say 'no'?

Norm: Do I have to spell it out for you? A rock? A hard place? I caught him shnooping his assistant? Come on! I've been practicing that for months!

Me: That is way far off, Norm. Maybe say something like "Are you worried your assistant will hurt her knees?" Eh?? That ones free.

Norm: That makes no sense. Hey, what is with that pale woman who works in your office? She plugged the toilet and kept flushing until it overflowed!

Me: Whaaa?? When? Which pale one?

Norm: The one who walks with her butt up in the air [Milton!]. I was coming out of the utility room and she bumped into me and told me the toilet overflowed
and then proceeded to give me a detailed description of what she'd done in there! That woman is a nugget away from the chicken farm!

Me: ::blink blink:: . . .  . . .  BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Norm: I asked her why she kept flushing! If the water wasn't going down, it was going to come UP! How many fancy colleges did she go to?? She said she thought that with enough [air quotes] "momentum" it would be fine. I said, "Lady, a plugged toilet doesn't fix itself!" but the worst part was that she wanted to help me fix it then clean it up. She kept trying to take the mop until I told her she was violating building codes. Then she just stood there watching me. I
had to pretend someone called me so that I could walk away.

Me: Yep. She is persistent.

[Suddenly he straightens himself up and starts yelling at an old man.]

"Hey! Make sure you don't drive over the curb this time, okay?"

[Old man ignores him.]

Norm: So I come back a few minutes later and she's still standing there waiting for me! In the same exact spot! I asked her if she was a robot- did you ever see that movie Starman? She's like that alien guy! What does she do in your joint?

Me: That is up for debate.

Norm: I think I'd chew my arm off if I had to deal with her on a daily basis. Then I'd jump into a shark tank.

Me: Yep. That's pretty much how I feel everyday. She's a nice person though and tries really hard but . . .

Norm: Have you resorted to drinking yet?

[stops talking and yells at the same old guy he told not to drive on the curb who was currently driving on the curb]

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU OLD MAN!!"

[old man flips him off]

Norm & Me: Old People!

 

And that's when I realized something. If Norm were 30 years younger, he'd be my best friend.

I am not a farmer so I hate it when people mess with my routines!

So, remember how I keep telling you that my work computer is virus infected so I can't go on the internet and the majority of the programs are corrupt therefore I am unable to access them anymore? I've learned to live with it for the most part but today its failings almost made me lose what's left of my mind. Wait. That deserves an exclamation point and and some capitals. WHAT'S LEFT OF MY MIND!

As most of you may know, we changed the clocks this weekend. Now, Instead of waking up before the sun rises, I wake up before the sunrise. So yeah, the only difference for me is that now I have to fight the thugs who loiter in the parking lot after 5 because it's dark when I leave the office.

Anyway, back to the computer issue.

The time didn't update on my computer. Right now, as I type this, the time reads 12:51 PM but it's actually 1:51 PM. Due to the virus, I cannot go in to fix it manually because I get an error message stating "your computer is so fucked, you may as well just grab your ankles!". I know an hour doesn't seem like a big deal but, when you base your happiness on how much longer you have to be at your desk before you can shake the shackles and hit the road to temporary freedom (because we know we'll be back in less than 15 hours)(unless we get hit by a train. then it may take longer), not knowing the right time is nerve racking.

So at 9:30 I thought it was 8:30 but then I counted how many sips of coffee I've had and concluded it was impossible for it to be 8:30. I adjusted my brain clock and continued working. A little later, my phone rang and I noticed it was 10:15 so I had to sit and stare at my computer for a few seconds while trying to remember if I was supposed to add or subtract an hour. I HATE MATH! I figured out it was 11:15 and moved on to another project.

Everything was fine until my stomach started making horrible growling noises. I looked at the time (notice a pattern here?)(of me being a dumbass?) and thought "what is the matter with you, Jelly (as in Jelly Belly)? it's only 11:45! I normally feed you at noon!" 1... 2... 3... "Oh crap! It's probably 12:45!"

Which brings me to this very moment. I've decided to do this:

and look like an idiot instead of being late for lunch ever again!

Sometimes work is just so stressful!

Randumbness

So... while kids were out looking for treats this Halloween, I was finding my own treats hidden in my pots.

The squirrels are going to be so pissed when they go digging for their winter snacks and oops! All gone!

What? You gonna cry for the squirrels now?

There is no mercy in this DOJO!

○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••

I had a doctor's appointment early on Saturday. For those of you keeping score, that's like the 100th appointment this year. She's still trying to iron out my kinks. I think it took Dr. Frankenstein less time to create his monster. Anyway, she was checking this and that when she asked me how I cleaned my ears. The question shouldn't have shocked me I guess but it did. I am very meticulous about my pre-check-up preparations so I thought maybe she wanted to get some tips from me?

Me: Well, I take the Q-tip and put it in my ear... I only use Q-Tip brand Q-tips though because the other ones are too flimsy-

Doc: No! Don't use Q-Tips. All they do is push the wax in deeper. You need to use drops!

Me: What are you saying?? [puts hands over ears]

Doc: Don't worry. I see this all he time. I'll write down the name of the drops for you-

And then she was distracted by a wailing kid who just had its ears pierced so she didn't write the name down for me. No, my doctor doesn't practice out of a Claire's.

I've been alive for almost 37 years and I've just learned I've been cleaning my ears wrong! If anybody knows what kind of drops I'm supposed to be using please let me know. I can barely hear over here!

○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••

I dyed my hair today. I went with Black but not because I'm having an identity crisis and am going for the goth look. I just like black hair. Unfortunately, the dye left what looks like a 5 o'clock shadow on both sides of my face giving me the appearance of sideburns. I'm gonna have to own them so that I don't look like an ass when I go in to work tomorrow.

 

"Thank you! Thank you verrry much!"

○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••○○••

I'd like to thank everybody who entered to win Mercury Falls. I was unable to read the book yet therefore have not sent Diesel aka Robert Kroese my interview questions so I'll hopefully announce the winner on Friday at the bottom of my interview. Way at the bottom. This will force you to read the whole interview and not just pop in, see if you won or not and then go have pizza.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and you promised yourself that when you grew up you'd eat candy all the time because you wouldn't have a mean old parent telling you not to?? Well! My tummy is all achey now from all the left over candy. Now I'm sad and wish I could beat up 11 year old stupid me.

The end.