This about sums up my day:
I have eaten everything I can get my chubby, dimpled hands on, today.
And those bastards, Ben and Jerry, have made the most nummiest Pistachio Pistachio ice cream.
Which I'm going to go have a second bowl now. To drown the sound of the thoughts that are gyrating through my noggin': My five year anniversary is on Saturday, this Wednesday is my un-due date and I'm approaching thirty like a runaway train on shortened track.
Now where'd I put that damn ice cream scoop?
1. Betty White just made a pass at Regis on the new "Password" gameshow.
2. I tried to phone screen someone for a job today who prefaced the call with "Sure, just lemmie change."
3. I went to a Mediterranean Cooking Class today at lunch where I won a free bottle of Basalmic Vinegar. However, the very old lady (who prefaced everything with "Would you believe I'm 60?!") had decided to rant at the end of the class about how Martha Stewart was framed (I can't make this stuff up) and I muttered, a bit too loudly, "Well at least she got a nice poncho out of it.." to which crazy cook lady zeroed in on me. "What did you say?!" she demanded. I felt like I was back in school again. So I looked at her and said, loud enough to fill the large meeting room "At least she got a nice poncho out of it!" Everyone laughed and she mentally stabbed me in the head with a broken bottle of olive oil. A lunch hour well spent.
4. I went to the eye doc yesterday where he told me, in not so many words, that I was suffocating my eyeballs. And that I owed him $120.00.
5. I saw "Prince Caspian" again. I'm still a dirty ol' woman.
6. During a stupid argument about lord knows what my sister and mother were stopped cold when my five year old niece turned in her chair and stared at mom. "Mammy? Do you have a brain in your head?" My mother looked at her darling grandchild and tried to be insulted while under the gaze of her calculating deep brown eyes. "Well, well - yes. Yes I do!" "Oh," said Gillian. "Is it pink?"
We're still not sure where that came from but somehow I think Spongebob is to blame.
7. I'm supposed to be writing - but instead I'm on Harry Potter fansites and wondering if I have enough marshmallows to make a large batch of Rice Krispie Treats in order to drown my sorrows. Of which I really have none. :)
8. I was reminded again today that the people who are "nice" and "friendly" on the job don't make it in the long run. Well, then. I'll be sitting at the Start Line if anyone wants to join me.
I have a plate of Rice Krispies! :) Happy Almost Friday!
Myfirst clue that the free lunch we won wouldn't be gourmet fare was the fact that it was being sponsored by a retirement home. The second clue for me came when I started to eat my lunch of pizza sticks, potato chips and hair - not exactly an appealing combo.
So I decided to walk down to the pop machine where I started a one-sided tug of war with the dollar changer on the front. I crammed my bill into the slot and waited for the mechanical pull to grab at my currency. When nothing happened I continued to cram my dollar into the slot hoping for a miracle of machinery to result in my getting a caffeinated soda. However, three minutes later I knew I was starting to look more like a client than an employee so I fished out the revolting $1.25 in change and inserted it.
Somehow, as if I hadn't been insulted enough by the vending machines, I decided that a Twix bar would be the perfect combo with my Pepsi. I held my breath as I put my rejected dollar up to the bill slot and - beamed as it was smoothly pulled inside and registered on the tiny screen. My Twix fell smoothly to the bottom of the machine and I reached for it and my change. Which wasn't there. The machine had decided to stiff me my change.
So - in summation, I almost ate a hair (not mine) and was then outsmarted by not one, but two, machines.
Okay, fine, it was three. For two days I had been trying to send a fax back to a company that sends applicants our way for open jobs and kept receiving a busy signal. I was red-faced and huffing and more than a little mad when I picked up the sheet and began dialing the company's number. And paused.
I had been dialing my own fax number. Every time. For two days.
Is it too late to join the Amish?
The rain.
It hates me.
And it was coming for me.
The power was fluxuating, my doors were slamming and the rain and hail flecked my windows with liquid anger.
And then it killed my phone.
And my internet.
Nature knows I hate it - and it wanted revenge for the plants I've killed, the bushes I've hacked and the flowers I've let die.
It found out my secret.
I'm almost thirty - and I'm scared of the rain - and the dark.
Coming home from work I was too tired to stop anywhere for food. The rain was pouring, my cupboards were bare and my feet - they were sore. It was a long day of standing talking to people who pretended to be interested in Direct Care Work just so they can get a free pen. A free .49 pen.
So I came home and got in bed with my "I survived the Newsies Square Explosion" t-shirt and hopped on www.papajohns.com. Apparently, you really can order a pizza from the net and have it delivered - no cash needed.
That was 40 mins ago.
According to my email, my estimated delivery time is 35-45 minutes. They're cutting it close and I hope to find a red-pocket-carrying pizza man on my doorstep in the next few minutes or else - ah - let's face it - as an achey and crippled version of my former self the worst I can do is send a "Hey dudes! Where's my f'n pizza???" email in a snarky tone.
Oh! It's here!
