The tragic day Milton lost her trusty, thick, finger cushion-y, red pen. [TAN TAN TAN!]

Yes, the situation was as dire as the TAN TAN TAN implies.

The morning started like every other morning, you know, with me leaving a trail of tears to my desk? There were no ominous signs of things to come. There hadn't been a blood moon the night before. No dead crows on my desk. Nothing to tell me that I was in for a day in hell.

At about 10:30, I noticed Milton acting *unusually* erratic and chicken-y (that's when you move your head from side to side in a robotic fashion) so I innocently asked "everything okay?"

And I wished I hadn't.

Milton: I can't find my red pen. I had it here just a minute ago. [stops to stare out her window, I'm assuming she was calculating something really complicated that no ordinary short person could ever understand] I had it when I went to talk to Glynda but it never left my hand.

Still Milton: Then I went to the bathroom but I didn't take it in there with me. I left it in the kitchen. When I came out of the bathroom, I know I grabbed it because I also had some crackers and I was balancing those along with the pen, my water and a chart.

And she continues: Then I stopped to talk to Toto because I liked her cardigan. She told me she got it last season for- [at this point, I blanked out so I'm not sure what else Toto and she discussed regarding last season's fashions].

On and on she goes: Then Glynda came and gave me the mail while I was still talking to Toto. I put down all my stuff so that I may reorganize everything and carry it all more efficiently.

At this point I can see stars spinning around my head.

Rambling Milton: I put the mail on top of the chart and stuffed it under my left arm. I held my water in my left hand and the crackers and pen in my right. I went to the front desk to relieve CL for a potty break. I put my stuff down again, drank some water, ate a couple of crackers and made notes in the chart with my red pen. [shows me chart with red penned notes]

The adventure? It continues: When CL came back, I came back to my desk where I arranged my water and crackers to my right and the chart, mail, pen to my left. 

Milton [looks at me suspiciously]: I went to grab a notepad and when I got back to my desk, my pen was missing.I've spent an hour looking for it and retraced my steps multiple times with no luck. [sighs and shrugs] I can't figure it out!

Me [after clearing my throat to remove the dust and cobwebs]: Can you just get another pen?

Milton [obviously insulted]: This was a special pen! It was thick and had a special finger cushion! I NEED THAT ONE!

Me: Eh, okay? Did you alert everyone so they could be on the look out?

Milton: No! It has to be right here! I just haven’t looked under the right pile of papers! Or maybe it rolled under my desk!

Me: Listen, we can help you look for it. Just stop freaking out.

Milton [looks around wildly]: It can’t have disappeared! I need it to make my notes!

Me: Let me just--

Just then, I was interrupted by Glynda walking into the office.

Glynda: Here you go, Milton, you left your pen at my table. [walks back out of the room]

Milton: But. . . What? How? [moves around the office all herky jerky]

Me: ::sigh:: Don't try to figure it out. Just be happy you have your pen back. [but I knew deep deep down she would not stop talking until she made sense of it in her head]

Milton: This can't be my pen! I had my pen everywhere I went! No! This isn't right! [starts mumbling] I made all these notes with a red pen! Was it my red pen? Did I steal someone’s pen...

And on and on and on!

Pens, highlighters, staples create nothing but drama in this freaking office.

And now, just for you jean knee, some Milton!

So, as some of you may know, Milton is Arkham Asylum's *female* accountant (I'm pointing out that she's female because I gave her a male name and people always call her *he* or *him* and she's not either). As a person, I like her very much and she's been to my house and we've done yard sales and also skipped hand in hand through a field of daisies. Sometimes, however, she has me questioning God's plan.

Anyway, tomorrow (or if you're reading this on Friday it's today and if you're reading this 6 months from now it was 8/20 and if you're reading this in the future, pick me out the winning lottery numbers) is her birthday so as is tradition here in the Asylum, she had to bring her cake in on Thursday (because everything is celebrated on Thursday due to the fact that OZ is in surgery and therefore does not make an appearance).

We prepared the cake by lighting the candles and then waited for her to walk into the kitchen so we could *surprise* her with the cake she brought in. When we saw her shadow rounding the corner, we yelled out "surprise" and sang Happy Birthday (I did a little dance for her too. Luckily there is no video evidence of this tomfoolery!) and then we waited patiently while she cut the cake.

Well, "waited patiently" may be exaggerating a bit because the cutting of the cake took a FREAKIN life of its own!

Please, come in and observe.

Milton [as she sticks knife in cake]: Oh dear! I went slightly off center.

Me, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, Toto (and the new addition to the team, uh, we'll call her Lucy and I'll tell you about her another time)(hopefully): ::unbelieving stare::

Milton: I think I will cut it in 4 pieces first and then divide it from there. [stands back to take a better look, in the meantime, the knife is at a 789 degree angle, in the cake]

Me: I don't care if my piece is lopsided. I'll just eat it with my head tilted at an angle so that will even it out.

Milton [squinting, looking for imaginary lines]: No, I'll slide the knife a little to the right and it should be fine. [slides knife and stands back again to inspect the results][I AM NOT EVEN MAKING THIS SHIT UP!]

Me [I put my hand on the knife's handle]: Uhm, how about I just cut the cake so we can get on with the eating?? I NEED SUGAR! [okay, I probably didn't need it because I was already all buzzed up on the 'feine ]

Milton [slaps my hand away]: Hey! At least I'm not doing what I do at home!

Me: I'm afraid to ask . . .

Milton [looks at me and adjusts her glasses]: I use a tape measure, of course!

Me, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, Toto and Lucy: ::unbelieving stare, mouth wide open::

Milton [looks at us with a serious smile]: Who wants the first symmetrical piece?

Milton is full of *heavy* air?

I had a little trouble sleeping the other night and I was telling Milton about it because I tend to forget how a normal conversation can go dramatically wrong when talking to Milton.

Me: I woke up at about 3 a.m. and felt like I had a bubble of air trying to work its way out of my throat and I felt like was asphyxiating. I got up and the air came hissing out of my mouth like a punctured tire and it went on for what felt like 3 minutes. It was so weird!

Milton: I wonder if air makes you gain weight.

Me: Uh, what? Like if you inhale too much of it, you get fat? Is that what you mean?

Milton: No, no I know we can't fat from air [right because I'm the one that's being ridiculous!] I just mean that if I'm gassy and go weigh myself, will I weigh more than when I'm not gassy?

Me: . . .

Milton: Next time that happens to you, go weigh yourself before you burp and then weigh yourself after you burp just as a mini experiment.

Me: I thought I was going to die! I don't think I would have had the presence of mind to put on a robe, knock around in the dark as I walk to the bathroom and then weigh myself!

Milton: Just out of curiosity, what did you eat? Did you drink a lot of Pepsi? I think I'm going to try get gassy tonight and then weigh myself. I'll tell you tomorrow what happened.

Me: Please don't.

Reactions to Purple Dino-SOUR's retirement, a timeline:

Tuesday, day of her announcement:

Purple Dino-SOUR: It's time for me to retire so that I may enjoy the last few years of my life.

Glynda: Now we can fill the position with someone who really wants to work!

Me: Yay! Hopefully the next person to sit in her desk will have at least half a brain!

Milton: It's about time!

Cowardly Lion: Took her long enough!

Toto: Boohoo!

Scarecrow: Waaaah!

Wednesday, it begins to sink in.

PD: ::sniff:: I will really miss the people.

Glynda: It won't affect you too much, Bee.

Me [stops dancing]: Wait, what? Why would it affect me at all?

Milton: Uh, now we'll have to do treat day more often because she threw off the ratio!

CL: I hope I'm promoted to her position!

Toto: Boohoo waaaaah!

SC: ::sniff sniff::: ::sob sob::

Thursday, her last day. Or 'day of reckoning', if you will. 

PD: I am being FORCED OUT! OZ cut my hours to make my life miserable! He is an evil evil man!

Glynda: OZ said the work can be done by you in the amount of hours you work, Bee.

Me: What? He's not going to replace her position? I have to take over her work? ::Waaaaaah!::

Milton: . . . because when I first started working here I was doing treats 1 in 8 weeks now it'll be down to 1 in 5!

CL: Okay, I will not be promoted to her position but I will pretend I am now the queen of the asylum by bossing everybody around!

Toto: Who will help me fix the copy machine? ::sniff sniff::

SC: Now who will believe all of my outrageous lies?

Friday, the day after.

Glynda: Look at it this way, job security.

Me [sorting through the piles of unfinished work inherited from PD and thinking *job security* could go fuck itself]: I'm effed. I am so effed.

Milton: ... and now it will be almost every month! I don't know how I'll manage!

CL: And I will be queen of cabbage patch land too!

Toto: The shiny object!

SC: I met Obama at the mall last Saturday. He's shorter than I thought!

Monday, after everything has sunk in.

Glynda: OZ said he is going to give Purple Dino-SOUR's position to his son.

Me: Of course he is because my work life isn't miserable enough!

Milton: I know it's petty but I don't know how I'll manage if he doesn't hire someone else and I have to do treat day more often!

Me [looking up from a stack of papers, messages and charts I inherited  from PD's desk because it turn out she never did any work and just decided to shove everything on my desk before she left while I was in the bathroom]: That's what you're focusing on? Treat day? I don't give a rat's ass about freaking treats right now!

Moral of this story:

Be careful what you wish for because an empty bobble head who at least does the minimum is better than paper cuts on your eyeballs.

I feel partly responsible for her retirement because the last time she worked before she retired I may have said something along the lines of "If you're unhappy here, maybe you should retire. He'll replace you with someone for half of what he pays you and life will go on." In my defense, I really didn't think she had the balls. I guess I was wrong.

Married Latina Female.

It is my belief that  life helps us prepare for things we weren't expecting in our paths by giving us small examples of how to deal with any future disappointments, sadness, heartache, homicidal tendencies, etc. I think back to the time I didn't have car insurance and backed into a Cadillac and had to pay the mean bitch out of my own pocket for her "repairs" even though there was nothing wrong with her car. That incident helped me realize any extra money in my wallet attracts evil which is why I try to spend as much of it as I can! Oh, I also learned I needed car insurance.

The reason I'm talking about this semi-enlightenment crap is because life never prepared me for Milton wanting to be my twin. Yep. You heard me right!

She is dressing like me, buying shoes like mine (WITH HEALS EVEN!), wearing gaudy jewelry, cutting her hair short like mine... Oh my lord! I just realized there was a movie just like this a few years ago! It was called Single White Female. Only I'm not single and she's not either. And also she is of the Caucasian persuasion and I'm so obviously of the Latin persuasion. Anyway, it's creeping me out! Now I have to hear about how she goes shopping at my favorite shoe store and to make matters worse, she was wearing a cute pair of red Mary Janes that would have looked awesome on my tootsies!

  (not actual shoe she wore because I would have wrestled them off her feet!)

Her next *Bee* thing? Perfume! She was commenting on how she loves how I leave the office smelling so good. Over Christmas she bought 3 different scents so I could tell her which one was better on her. She asked me what the name of mine was and I lied. I told her it was Exclamat!on which I used to wear when I was like 15 or 16 so I'm hoping she gets the hint.

When she cut her hair, she asked me if she could get away with dying it a dark color, not black but maybe a dark brown. I told her her skin was too fair and her response was "well so is yours but the color looks good on you" and I had to let her down easy by saying that there is a difference between being fair and blushy (me) and fair and cotton-ball-y (her). Thankfully she went with strawberry blonde.

I hope she doesn't try to swap my Andy for her beer-gutted old dude because I will have to introduce her to my little friend:

It's not very humane but I think it'll get my point across!

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.

My trash your treasure + OZ steps out of line and I smack him back!

So, the yard sale went great!

We had wonderful weather... okay, maybe it was a little chilly but it was still enjoyable. We sat in my front yard under the canopy of trees and watched as cheapo people left without buying any of my CRAP treasures.

Milton had a great time. I think she also liked the fact that she was able to bond with the family members I'm constantly talking about (my sister, her girls, my brother Rick, my mom, Maria THE VEGETERIAN and her little daughter Sofia).

She did do a bunch of Milton things like reorganizing the shoes we were selling not once, twice, three times but like 500 times. She claimed somebody must have removed a $2 sticker on one of her items and placed a 50 cent sticker instead.

She also had kittens each time someone asked me what I was selling something for and I would talk myself down. "well, I want $3 but give me $2 and it's yours!"

She stuck to her prices and refused to negotiate which is probably why she's got more Benjamins than I do. The funny thing is that she owned up to her OCD and I have to say I enjoyed her company immensely.

There was one item I regretted putting out as soon as a lady picked it up. It was a gorgeous magazine rack that was almost new but I had put it away because I was abusing its magical powers and stacking too many magazines at one time.    

When she asked me the price, I said $3 and had it in my head that if she thought it was too much, she could go eff herself. She gave me the $3 (in quarters!!!) and drove off with my irreplaceable, priceless magazine rack. I MISS YOU MAGAZINE RACK!!

The downfall of this weekend is that, thanks to Milton, I am now on a first name basis with a lot of my neighbors and their dogs. I now more about their problems than I care too! I swear to Nihm that if any of them so much as smile at me because they *know* me, I will fling poo at them! I liked not knowing anybody but Boomhauer and Wilson. My sanctuary has been trespassed and contaminated!  The dogs were cute though.

I didn't make a lot of money (nope, can't retire yet) but the important thing is that my JUNK treasures are now gathering dust in someone else's house. (MAGAZINE RACK, COME BACK TO ME!!)

Coming back to work today, I had a conference call scheduled where OZ was going to have to man up and scare this guy I had been having a verbal sparring match with for the past couple of weeks. Instead he wimped out and postponed the call for Friday because he didn't have enough "" facts "". It pissed me off but then I remembered it wasn't my company and so I had my rice pudding.

When I went to lunch, OZ stepped into the kitchen and started asking me questions about that same account.

I don't know about you but I don't get paid while I'm at lunch. I also don't like distractions when I'm trying to enjoy my ham samich so I said.

Bee: I didn't bring the chart to lunch with me because I eat lunch at lunch.

OZ: Oh, but I'm sure you have some memory of the account details.

Bee: No, not while I'm at lunch because all I'm thinking about when I'm at lunch is my lunch.

OZ: Well, can you just answer me this one question?

Bee: Suuuuuure! When I get back from lunch.

Staring contest ensues.

OZ [leans against the kitchen sink]: ...

Bee [pats her ham sandwich]: ...

OZ [crosses his arms]: ...

Bee [takes a bite of her sandwich]: ...

OZ: ... I guess I'll buzz you when you get back from lunch.

Bee: I'm staying an extra 5 minutes which is about how long this conversation took. [I wink]

OZ: Okay. Just let me know when you get back.

Bee: You betcha!

 

That's what I'm talking about!!! MOFO interrupting me and my smoked ham sandwich!

War— I mean WORK stories.

It’s been a while since I regaled you with the adventures of Arkham Asylum. Today we will feature:

Milton (female), the bookkeeper (one of my favorites).

Scarecrow, the spastic x-ray tech.

Purple Dino-SOUR, the world’s most useless human.

And because I do like to mock myself from time to time, Bee, the cool chick.

When last we left Arkham, the biddies were devising new ways to mentally torture our favorite character, Bee.

Milton

Milton:
Do you know who threw out the green scott brite dish sponge?

Bee:
The ugly dingy one that no longer made suds and was even oily and black?

(That's not it. It looks better than the one I threw away)

Milton:
Yeah, that one.

Bee:
No.

[I actually had it wrapped in a paper towel in my purse. I know that sounds weird but this thing was revolting and she was using it to wash the forks and spoons I use to eat my food. Which means they go in my mouth. I couldn’t throw it away in any of the garbage cans because…]

Milton:
I looked in the garbage cans and it’s not in any of them. They had to have thrown it out at some point yesterday before the cleaning crew came.

[… I knew she would dig through the garbage so I had grabbed it that morning before she came in and stuffed it in my purse. It’s scary how well I know my bats]

Bee:
I’ll bring you a new one from home. That one was beyond disgusting. It probably already had a micro civilization complete with skyscrapers and Al Gore.

Milton:
You guys are too delicate. At home, I can go months without replacing the sponge.

[after I swallowed my bile, I made a mental note not to eat at Milton’s house.]

Scarecrow

Bee [on the phone with a patient while both the receptionist and her back up, PD, were on vacation]:
We have an opening tomorrow if you’d like to come in then, Mrs.—.

Scarecrow [in such a loud whisper I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian heard her]:
Oh no! Not Mrs.—! We do not want to see Mrs.—!

Bee:
We will see you on Friday Mrs.—. [I slowly turned to look at Scarecrow and she almost seemed to shrink before my eyes] May I see you in the chartroom for a minute?

Scarecrow:
I-I-I have to go look for a chart.

Bee:
Well, you can start in the chartroom!

I dragged her boney ass in there and proceeded to tell her how unprofessional she was to not only say such things about a patient while I’m on the phone with her but to say it in front of other patients in the waiting room. I told her that while I was the substitute receptionist she was NOT going to behave in such a manner on my watch! Her response?

Scarecrow:
W-w-would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee?

I think she was trying to show me her underbelly as a sign of submission but I ain’t taking any chances in her spitting in my precious coffee.

Purple Dino-SOUR

As I said before, both Cowardly Lion (the receptioist)  and PD were on vacation so the next person in line to play receptionist was lil’ ole me. Why the hell they stuck me as the receptionist is beyond me since I am clearly not a people person! Usually when PD goes on her yearly jaunts to Le Florida, I get to work her desk and mine. However! These were special circumstances. I had never done a 2 day stint as the merry phone lady so I figured PD’s desk could rot for all I cared.

Would you believe this bubble head came in and threw a tantrum because her desk looked like somebody had replaced it with mine?

PD:
Did you run claims for me last week?

Bee:
No, I was hoping the elves would come in and do it for you since I was too busy trying to do my job and be receptionist at the same time.

PD:
I can’t get all this done in one week!

Bee:
So hey? How was your vacation? I haven’t taken one in 2 years and this is your third this year.

PD:
I have worked here 18 years! Don’t I deserve to take a vacation?

Bee:
Of course you do! You need time off from the 5 hour 3 days a week job you have. I’d be exhausted too but nobody does my work when I go away to sunbathe in the nude.

PD:
::gasp!::  [stalks off to complain to her fellow bubble heads]

Bee

First up.

For those of you keeping score, I was KM a couple of weeks ago so I brought in a healthy veggie tray with dip and some chocolate and blueberry muffins. Those rotten old ladies did not eat any of my snacks so I wound up having to throw out the veggies because they grew moldy. The muffins were enjoyed by my family so that was okay but what the hell!

This week I had a plan. I was not going to eat any of the treats Toto brought in as a sign of protest. I wanted them to feel all hurt and achy inside just like I did when they didn’t eat my goodies. Come with me as I give you peek into my head.

Bee [all in my head]:
Hmmm she brought 2 types of coffee cake. I don’t care what kind she brought I AM NOT HAVING ANY!

Oh, one is open custard [mouth drooling] and the other is Bavarian chocolate chip [drool spilling onto my shirt]… NO! ooh! She brought colby-jack cheese too! Maybe I’ll just have a little piece— NO!! Oh dear lord! She brought the dip she knows I love! She did this on purpose just to torture me! She’s met her match because I will resist the temptation—

Who am I kidding? I have no self control when it comes to snackies.

And to end things with a golden brush of dumbass...

I requested a copy of our contract from a big name insurance company. They faxed it over and I made 3 copies but for some reason I thought the contract they faxed had print on both sides of the page so I had to redo the copies and make them two sided. We have an old fax machine. Can anyone tell me why I'm a dumbass?

I'm down with OCD! Yeah you know me!

You know how I'm always talking crap about the bats (ladies I work with)? I'm always saying how they're off their rockers because they have all these idiosyncrasies that boggle my mind?

Well...

It seems they may be slowly infecting me. I feel the changes are, at the moment, imperceptible but yesterday, when I was getting ready to leave the office, I did what I have done since I discovered Milton has been going through my desk. I clipped together the paperwork I've been working on and strategically placed a bunch of items on top and then took a picture.

I do it everyday and then in the morning, after I verify nothing was touched or ask "WHO THE HELL MOVED MY CHEESE??" if something was, I delete the picture and start working.

I've been doing that for almost a year. Everyday.

I fear there is no turning back.

If I ever find a new job, I'm taking Norm with me.

Do you guys remember Norm? The Building Manager? That I “” interviewed “” a little bit ago?

Well I was on my way to the ladies room when I noticed he was leaning against the wall near the ladies room door. Being the NOSEY curious person I am and also knowing a bunch of old people comments, I asked “What are ya’? Holding up the wall?” he laughed and waved me over.

Norm:
Some women have complained that they’ve caught a guy standing right outside the bathroom when they leave and he pretends he’s putting something in the mailbox.

Bee:
Uh weird.

Norm:
You haven’t seen him, have you?

Bee:
Nope. I would have smashed his face. Is that why you’re standing there? To see if you see him?

Norm:
Yeah I figured I’d revert to my cop days and have a mini stake out.

Bee:
Norm, it won’t work if he sees you! Maybe you should borrow a tall plant and stand behind that?

Norm:
Don’t be silly! I have the general description and images from the security camera so I’m hoping I’ll recognize him if he walks by. He usually stands by the door for a few minutes then leaves the building.

Bee:
What are you gonna do? Tackle him? Can I help? I have some pent up aggression—

Norm:
Someone’s coming! Go into the bathroom!

I ran over to the door, fumbled with the key and went in. All my urgency to pee was gone. I heard Norm talking to someone but then nothing so I came out to see if he needed any help.

Norm:
False alarm.

Bee:
Well now I can’t go.

Norm:
Why don’t you use the bathroom in your office.

Bee:
LONG STORY! What does the guy do? Can you see him clearly in the security camera?

Norm:
The pervert just stands really close to the door.  I don’t even want to know what he’s doing!

Bee:
I still don’t think he’ll make an appearance if he knows you’re here. Why don’t you stand in the stairway? (the stairway door and the bathroom door are across from each other)

Norm:
Look, I don’t want to get any closer to that door than need be. Next thing you know people are going to be complaining about me!

Bee:
I have to go back to work. [I was really sad and disappointed] Can you tell me if you catch the perp?

Norm:
No. You already know too much. Why are you so interested anyway? [he looks at me suspiciously]

Bee:
I'm thinking of writing a book.

Norm:
[rolls eyes] Skedaddle already!

 

Some people have all the fun! And also, I will now be holding it (by it I mean IT!) until I get home.

 

Side Milton Story:

Milton:
That’s a pretty banana you’re eating.

Bee:
Milton, that sounded obscene.

Milton:
(giggles) Sorry. Where did you buy them?

Bee:
Jewel or Shop-n-save I think.

Milton:
I bought some pears at shop-n-save this weekend and I noticed yesterday they overcharged me for them. The pound was 89¢ and they charged me 99¢. I went over there and it took me an hour to get an adjustment!

Bee:
How many pounds did you buy?

Milton:
One pound. I know a dime isn’t a lot but it’s the principle.

Bee:
Yesterday was Earth day and you drove 20 minutes round trip and argued for an hour for 10¢? You’re killing the planet! 

Sure she fishes toilet paper rolls out of the garbage to recycle them but the ozone can suck it I guess.

Antibiotics and you. First step stop being a whoooooore.

P.P.S.
Damn! I have too much to say today!

Milton is looking up side effects on the antibiotics she’s taking. Now she is self diagnosing herself with a lot of other diseases, “she feels swollen, is having palpitations, her joints hurt”.

How about safe sex next time, Milton?

Just kidding.

Also, the paint fumes are making me sleepy and happy. That’s 2 out of the seven dwarfs, right? My Snow White is a little rusty. That’s what she said!

I am so mean.

Ah, you thought cakes were only dangerous because they make your butt bigger...

Have you missed the fact that I haven't posted about Milton? Would you like a little Milton today?

As I've said before, sometimes I wonder if we are secretly being filmed by some far off extraterrestrials that get their giggles from us, the lesser beings (well, you guys maybe lesser but me? I'm a woman and a half which makes for difficulty in buying clothes). To those extraterrestrials I say "SCREW YOU!" and I say it in a shrill, obnoxious voice right into their mics so I may annoy the shit out of them!

Yesterday, day of the lord Thursday, also known as Treat Day or Social Thursday here at the Asylum, I made the innocent mistake of saying the following to Milton: "Yum!! Glynda brought RedVelvet cake!"

I know! How stupid can I be?? Why would that be the first thing I say in the morning? What happened to just plain ole' "good morning" and then a mouthful of shutty??

You see this prompted Milton to debate my saneness.

Milton: "Who brought RedVelvet cake? I thought you said Glynda."

I did say Glynda because she brought the cake.

Milton: "Did you mean Scarecrow? Because it's her week to bring in treats and Glynda isn't on the rotation to bring treats so I think you meant Scarecrow."

No, I meant Glynda—

Milton: "Why would Glynda bring in treats? That just doesn't make sense! Are you sure it wasn't Scarecrow?" [and she stood up as if to emphasis what I dumbass I am for getting two completely different people mixed up]

Glynda brought the cake because—

Milton: "Scarecrow. You mean Scarecrow." [and she gave me that look that shows she is trying her hardest not to lose her patience]

Hey, how about you let me complete sentence? GLYNDA BROUGHT A CAKE FOR HER BIRTHDAY!

Milton: "Glynda's birthday? [she blinked about 20 times] Scarecrow brought a cake for GLYNDAY'S birthday?"

No. Glynda bought herself, Glynda, a birthday cake because tomorrow is her, Glynda's, birthday. No to Scarecrow. NO TO SCARECROW. NO TO SCARECROW!!!

Milton: "Is Scarecrow still bringing cheese and crackers??"

At the end of the fuckin day I was calling Scarecrow Glynda and vice-versa. Maybe I was wrong and don't really know everything? Maybe I'm really Milton?

Somebody?

Anybody?

You know how they suggest you shouldn't talk about religion or politics in the work place?

Here is another topic that should be off limits.

I was whining about the fact that I can't seem to lose weight (too much good food out there) when Milton (female) asked, "When do you weigh yourself?" I said first thing in the morning.

Then I was walked down a road I hadn't known existed and frankly would have been happy ending my life without being made aware of it.

Milton:
I weigh myself naked first thing in the morning then again after my bowel movement then again after I take a shower. It usually gives me a varying weight of about 2 pounds.

… … … … …

When I picked myself off the floor, I noticed a bump on my head. Sadly, it didn't make me forget what I had just learned.

♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•♠♠•

You know how I'm always saying rainbows and butterflies follow me around wherever I go? Check this perfect rainbow inside my house.

You will never doubt me again, will you?

I decided not to live blog my birthday. I'm going to have a busy day and not even I can type so many swear words that quickly.

I have one favor to ask. It's little, minuscule, wee!

Click on the box below to vote for your favorite blogger. (ME!) See? I'm cheap! In case you are looking for me, I am in the *Personal Life* category.
Men, I leave you with Heidi Klum. (Just want you to know I felt a little dirty watching that video.)(then I got up and ate some cake)(which explains why I can't lose weight)



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Just when you thought it was safe to eat bagels…

Hmmm... somebody put this banner on my wall at work. It's probably just a coincidence??

We had our regular Thursday staff meeting this morning where Milton announced she had brought bagels (it was her week to bring treats and she always brings bagels), but she wanted us to do her a favor.

If you are at all familiar with my Milton, you will know 2 things:

She is a female.

She is weird.

This was her favor.

"When you guys use the cream cheese, can you remove the top layer bit by bit and not use chunks from the middle or edges?"

… What?

"I know it's an odd request but I like to keep the cream cheese as esthetically pleasing to the eye as possible and not have craters along the container."

… That's funny, I like for it to be pleasing to my tummy.

"I know you guys are going to be making fun of me behind my back for this request but I don't care as long as you do as I ask"

… No, I will mock you to your front too:

"Don't worry Milton, I'll go and level it out after each person uses it!"

Sadly, people are heartless and did horrible things to the poor cream cheese! It was too late to use my trusty level. :o(

Bastards.

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I can't think of a freakin title so make one up once you read this post. Thanks for playing!

Okay.
There are some people in the blogusphere that brag they have the best commentators in the world.

I would have to disagree and say I have the best ones in the world/solar system/galaxy/universe... INFINITY! If those same fake claimers give me any grief, I'll have to bitch slap them into seeing it my way.

You guys never cease to amaze me. The comments on my last post (HILARIOUS!!! YOU SHOULD ALL HAVE BLOGS! ... Oh.) prove to me you are heartless and have no sympathy for those less socially fortunate than us. I like that about you! :o)

I need to explain why I felt crappy about not putting any extra effort into signing Milton’s card.

It took me back to school, when the unpopular kid wouldn’t get an invite to the popular kids’ parties. I think I’ve said before how I never chose friend’s based on popularity or what cool gadgets they could bring into our friendship.

(ALTHOUGH... I do remember walking off in a huff with my volleyball one time because I got mad at my best friends for not letting me be Kelly, THE Kelly from Charlie’s Angels? But I was only about 7 or 8 at the time.)

I know she felt as if I was excluding her from my *click* when I didn’t mean to do any such thing. I really didn’t think much of it. I didn't know they talked about the nutty things I wrote on their cards because half the time I don’t even remember what the hell I’ve just written.

If somebody draws first blood (hee hee RAMBO reference) I have no problem switching gears to Mondo Bitch but I would never purposely hurt someone’s feelings. As inconsequential as the little message would have been, it did upset her. Sooo, I will be keeping my douche award thank you very much.

But!!!

I appreciate all of you fellow loonies making me feel better! If not for my anti-social personality added to that the fact that I don't like to be touched -or touch people for that matter, I'd give you all a handshake.

By the way, I’m not trying to imply I’m the popular kid here at Arkham Asylum… hmmm, I guess I am. I can’t help being this cool. Also, I have no *clicks* at work, I am the Alpha chick, the lone wolf(-ess?), I drink alone (youtube).

Do you know what Karma’s payback was? I tried to think of what I would have written and I couldn’t think of a gotdang thing! I lost my MOJO!

This is all I could come up with:

It’s a good thing you’re an account, after this birthday, you’ll need your degree to count that high!

I'm so ashamed!

♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀♂♥♀

And now for some more marital bliss entitled "I see more chocolate in my future"

(The following took place after I told Andy the whole family was coming over for a visit.)

Andy:
I’ll be home at 5 or so. I hope I can get in the driveway.

Bee:
You’ll probably be home before anybody else gets there.

Andy:
If not, I’m parking my car in front of Dan’s and he’ll just have to sleep over. “Yeah, how do you like that, Dan? Want some eggs for breakfast?”

Bee:
Hey! How come you never offer me eggs?

Andy:
You’re not a guest.

Bee:
What if I leave you and come back for a visit?

Andy:
You might find you’ve been replaced!

Bee:
… … …

Andy:
So. Um. Hello? I meant by Mocha. She would take over your side of the bed. That’s all I meant. I didn’t mean, you know. I was just…

Bee:
… … …

Andy:
So, do you want to go to a movie this weekend? Buy some plants? Shoes???

Sometimes, the most dangerous weapon is silence.
.
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I HATE it when my conscious bites me in the ass!

You know how I’m always telling you what a cold Bit- uh… Witch I am? Wellp! Today I felt like pond scum. Why? you ask.

As you may remember (because I expect you to follow my day to day drama), Milton and I had a falling out. Things have been a little tense between us and today was her birthday.

As is customary in all offices here and on the planet Zoobar, there was a card that circulated to be signed and she was bringing a birthday cake. Yup! You, as the one who was shot out of someone’s hoo-haa, are responsible for bringing your own birthday cake.

Anyway, the card came to me and I signed it. Here’s where the part of me feeling like a used Q-Tip comes in.

We were in the kitchen, we had just sung happy birthday (lame), she blew out her candles, they gave her the card and Scarecrow said “Ooh, I can’t wait to see what Bianca wrote!”

Whaaaaat?? What I wrote?

Then everybody started sharing the things I’ve written on their cards while laughing. I could feel the cold sweat on my back, dreading their next question to Milton: “What did she write on yours?”

In my mind’s eye, I leapt in -s l o w - m o t i o n-, pulled the card out of Milton’s hands and wrote something worthy of all the attention my stupid, mindless, Happy Birthday wishes were getting. All this was imaginary because the reality was a little sad.

Milton scanned the card eagerly, her face crumpled in disappointment when she read “Happy Birthday! -Bianca”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! I hate feeling sorry for people! I just want to hate them and poke their voodoo dolls full of holes while cackling madly!

I award myself the prize of douche bag of the year!

╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜╝╝╜

On a friendly blogging note.

If you have a blog and LOVE Music. You love it so much you’d like to share it with the people who click on your blog and think you found a solution by making it blare once we go on it… well my friends. STOP IT!

I know it’s your blog and I have no control over it but I kinda do. You have to understand that I do ALL MOST A LOT? SOME of my blog stalking in between mental relapses while at work.
If I click on your blog and Nelly comes on singing “Its getting hot in here/so take off all your clothes” (youtube link) comes on, I will get a few puzzled glances from the gray hairs that sit across from me.

They don’t listen to young people’s music (if you’re still listening to this song you have issues since it’s at least 6 years old!)(not that I want to insult your taste in music… okay, I do.) but they can make out the lyrics and I don’t need more curious trifocal looks coming my way.

Unless you have Frank Sinatra, then we're golden... just a suggestion!
.
.
--I might remove that last part of my post since it sounds bossy but we’ll see how I feel later.

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And now for some Milton.

Milton and I had a falling out a few weeks back. She decided I turned 15 instead of 35 so in her opinion, I needed to learn a few lessons. Doesn’t matter what the argument was about, what matters is that she was wrong and I was right. Shocking, I know.

Today I took a payment from a patient. I almost never do that because I avoid all patients like I avoid babies covered in poo. I had no choice this time around since I was watching the front desk while CL emptied her bladder.

The patient gave me his $20 co-pay, I slipped it into the designated plastic envelope they keep in the desk, wrote his receipt, wrote it on the visit slip, made a copy of it in triplicate and smudged my thumbprint on the form after I'd dipped it in blood to prove I had taken someone’s cash. In other words, I followed all protocol and SHOULD have been on easy street.

Ah, how the innocent must live such a simple life when not afflicted with Mad Bat Disease.
Why?, you ask, well friend (can I call you friend? or would you prefer Goomba?), when Milton took the envelope to transfer the whopping $20, she misplaced the envelope.

I was then called upon to describe this infamous $20 bill. Did it have any distinguishing birth marks? Tattoos? Any missing fingers? How about the hair color?

This led me to ponder which would be worse, death by cotton ball suffocation, overdose by nasal spray or being talked to death by a one dimensional accountant.

I CAN’T FIND THE DOOR TO MY HAPPY PLACE PEOPLE!!

.
P.S.
She found it near the office bathroom. The $20 was exactly as I’d described it. Green with a picture of some dude on the front.

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