For Your Enjoyment

Text Messaging With Boss

6:40am, Me: Allergies so bad. No way I can operate car much less smaller tasks. Almost gave insulin to wrong cat. Aiming for 9/10am.

9:40am, Me: Argh. This is terrible. New plan. Come down before noon to handle payroll/w2s. Then stay as long as my evil allergy overlords will let me. How are you?

9:43am, Boss: I am doing okay. Hope you get better.

9:46am, Me: When people come to you panicked saying Death has been spotted in the building, comfort them by saying it is just me.


9:47am, Boss: I will do that!

9:48am, Me: Sweet. You may also want to assure them that I am not carrying the plague.

______ Later, upon arrival in the office _______

11:45am, Me: People are scattering and screaming whilst shouting, "Death! Death!" I keep raising my arm and pointing at them. Funny

My Bad

Ex-Cop (shouting at me from his office while I'm hunkered down below my half-wall): Are you a golf-person?

Me (popping up and giving him the stink eye): Excuse me?

Ex-Cop: Are you a dog...puppy-person?

Me: Oh! Yes. I like puppies (thinking to myself: shit, my bad, not golf, dog!).

Ex-Cop: I'm going to email something you might like then.

Me: Ok, great.

______ Later, I rouse myself to check my email _______

Ex-Cop's email:

You probably don't clean your computer screen very often

and it is really hard to do the inside,
so here is my present to you.

Click on the word "here" above and wait for a few seconds and the inside of your screen will be cleaned for you!

Old Women and Animal Prints

Why is it that old woman really enjoy animal prints? Especially leopard? This one lady in my literature volunteer class was wearing a leopard-print blazer and pointy leopard-print kitten heels. Excessive! And to mentor 6th-graders who have home tattoos and babies. Baffling.

In Other News

The psychologist is upping my anti-anxiety/depression meds in hopes that I am less moody and can get out of bed in the mornings.

The seahorse mosaic now lives in my kitchen window.


(That's a small black bear on the table.)

Wikus is going to be moving to a new apartment right down the road. Not so he can be down the road from me, but so he can have a porch. This is very high on his life list.

The Boy totally accidentally sliced my knee through my awesome blue tights when he was vigorously waving away a nice little happy fart I sent his way. His fingernails seriously need to be trimmed, but he won't do it claiming he needs them for the guitar. He actually drew blood. There's blood on my tights on my knees, and I am not an 11-year-old.


(Awesome tights for an awesome dress with awesome shoes.)

The Boy is obsessed with The Tudors. It is a perfectly tolerable show if you had not previously spent a whole semester taking A History Of England class with the best professor in the whole world. Instead of enjoying the show, I have to sit with my computer fact-checking, because Showtime seems to know a different version of England's history than what I know. Seriously. Wolsey did not commit suicide in the Tower of London. Please don't believe everything you watch on television! Also, very important annoy-the-fuck-out-of-me factor: The first season has good ol' King Henry VIII doing a voice over during the credits, and he says something like, "To know a story, you have to start at the beginning" or some crap like that. The thing is, the fucking Tudors don't fucking start with King Henry VIII. Was it so hard to start with the War of the Roses and King Henry VII? This seriously makes me angry, and am glad it has been dropped in season two. I can stop shouting at the show from the very beginning, and can usually last at least 20 minutes in to it before I start grumbling about plot points.