Yesterday - my work fired two secretaries for giving their two weeks notice. No, I don't get it either. The office manager (whom I'd like to take her stupid CZ's and shove them so far up her tight ass that they turn into real diamonds) nor the Lawyermen (who sold their spines in excange for being able to understand what a "tort" truly is) have given the rest of the staff any clue as to what happened or where the two secretaries are today. We are left to assume the worst - that they have left us here and moved on to better lives - ones that don't include working for an evil law firm in a faux high-rise.
I figure I will be asked to help pick up the slack. Obviously I am going to refuse any "help" of any kind leaving plenty of room for them to hire a new receptionist should they decide that I, too, am expendable.
I would quit, but I really don't want to give them the satisfaction of replacing me with a perkier, less-hostile version of myself (with less impressive accessories, of course).
If that wasn't enough - Harry and I met his grandmother in Ashland last night so that we could pay for the new Jeep and then go to the Texas Roadhouse for rolls and other food (the rolls are the best - other food is just filler until the server brings more bread!). We sit down at our table - Harry and I share a side while his grandmother goes to the other side. Not long after, a group of young motorcycle "oil for brains" men come in and sit down behind her. The one with his back to me is wearing a t-shirt that has a naked girl, spread eagle with the words : LEGS WIDE OPEN CYCLES in bold letters above her.
I can't believe it.
I was worried about having to eat a steak while a big bull stared at me from the picture above our table and now, NOW, I was going to have to talk to Harry's sweet, petite grandmother while a naked crotch danced off stage left??!!
It was my worst nightmare.
"Kinda like a train wreck, iddinit?" Harry said to me out of the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah," I agreed, "and apparently 'Train Wreck' only knows four words and all of them are four-lettered."
Finally we leave - the image now seared into my brain and get into our separate cars. I hop into the new Jeep - driver's side - while Harry isn't looking - he's trying to get his grandmother to let him drive her home.
She insists she's fine.
She 'bout takes out half of Kentucky before Harry and I catch up to her and motion for her to pull over (Harry hung out the passenger window like a lunatic).
We get home at 10 am and I hit the bed like a ton-o-bricks.
"Holly? Honey?" I pop my head up and look at my loving hubby. "Will you make me a sundae?"
But I got up and made him a sundae with a waffle bowl, magic shell, sprinkles, mini kisses, whipped cream and waffle pieces sticking out of it for dippers.
I'm a good wife.
Plus, how else am I gonna steal the new Jeep from him?
Muah -ha- ha!