But you should have seen me this afternoon when I got home and there was a message on my machine from my friend, the neighbor. A really, really nice lady who hosts craft night once a month. Guess what night it is???
Of course, and she wants to meet my mom who’s been visiting for the past few days…so I feel badly not going. Another month and no excuse not to go. I was really irritated at first thought, but I tend to talk my self out of those irritations. Not sure that’s good or bad, just…depressing. I’m such a bitch.
It’s been a long week.
No alone time.
That’s hard on my psychological welfare… LMAO.
ALSO…is it really so bad to want a tattoo?? Why, when I say that, do people make disgusted faces and say ew. I see people with them and I like them!!!!! It’s not very nice to be so negative about what other people like… I mean, I don’t go around saying, “I really hate when People read bible verses out loud at the breakfast table…as if we all want to hear it.”
I’m sorry, but to me…that’s pretty.
and so is that…
You can’t possibly understand how pissed off I was last night during the Olympic opening ceremonies. I watched all these beautiful people people parade in with their beautiful dresses…their scarves…their hats…pretty shoes. I don’t remember which country wore them, but the women had on these sassy red dresses. Reminded me of Audrey Hepburn…
I remember thinking at that point, Oh, I can’t wait to see what the US is wearing.
OMG! OMG! OMG!
First of all, if you saw our team from a distance you wouldn’t be able to distinguish man from woman. It was the most disappointed I’ve ever been!!!! I mean, what stupid Freak women’s Liber decided we had to be Fucking equal to men??? HMMM? There was nothing, absolutely NOTHING pretty about any of the women’s clothing. They looked just like the men. Pansy ass men wearing Polo-ish Caddyshack-reminiscent WHITE pants, blue[yes, Navy] sports jackets, and stupid, freaking, country-club set scarves at their necks.
[My daughter saw this picture when I was complaining about the outfits…she said, “but the dress is pretty.” YES! THANK YOU, smart 9 year old female. I LOVE YOU.]
I’m a republican…but, EW. EW.EW.EW. They looked like cookie cutter conservative, golfing..SEXLESS SHITHEADS.
When is our country going to WAKE UP and realize that woman have more to offer!
Put a dress on, you morons!!!!!!!!!!
There’s something about kids.
They make you want to pull your hair out.
They make you yell when you want to be calm.
They call you stupid… and end up grounded to their rooms.
They wish you were never born.
They have excuses for not doing what you tell them to do.
Then, a minute later they are smiling…and you still want to pull your hair out. You wish you didn’t exist. You yell. But most of all, you wish you had been too stupid to have sex.
I BLAME HIM! ————->
(heh. i can’t help but laugh. which is how we get ourselves more children in the first place. STOP making me LAUGH!)
that’s what I am now. Seriously, what is it about a bunch of women working in an office together that seems to bring out the worst? It’s like highschool all over again. Only without the pom poms, homecoming, and football games.
Wanna know why my job satisfaction has dropped drastically? Why tension envelopes me when I enter my department? Women who are older than I am, should be adult enough not to nitpick over the simple things. There should be no who said what to who or who did what to who. Or worse… carrot cake. That is what this all started over. Freaking carrot cake…I kid you not.
Most jobs people are lucky to get a Happy Birthday, but not at my job. It is something done to recognize the employees. So why do we argue over cake? Be thankful for what you get. Worse than the carrot cake argument is the fact that people want to draw me into the arguement. Not going to happen. From now on… I will sit my happy ass at my desk, headphones on, iPod turned up, and post my sign.
This cubicle is Switzerland and I am a neutral party.
I think that paired with the following….
Employee at work…. keep walking.
…might actually garner me a little bit of peace or get me named the office bitch. But I think I can live with that. If it doesn’t work, maybe I can go around and do the yearbook poll… who is the most popular, most likely to succeed, etc. etc. etc…..
I came upon a revelation last night.
Having never understood people who could look at their children and say, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I was taken by complete surprise by that very overwhelming emotion. My daughter heard me and my hubby arguing last night [of which I will bitch about in a minute] and when the old man turned away, my daughter called to me. I went to her door to peek in and she said, I love you mom. I was never more grateful for my daughter…
Just because I’m wrong doesn’t mean I can’t bitch!
I can’t keep a freaking balance. I want to, I try to, I always screw it up…somewhere along the line. I’m a shithead and sick and tired of feeling like the only one who makes mistakes around here. God knows, He made other people perfect….
Why am I the only one who has to do things that go against the grain? Other people aren’t doing things that are hard for them. They aren’t stepping outside any character box in order to complete a task. It’s all easy shmeasy. [offtopic]They didn’t carry four children then HAVE to overcome all these NONmaternal instincts.[<–sarcastic tone] Not everyone is automatically child friendly. Hell, I stopped babysitting in high school because I couldn’t stand the kids anymore. Of course it’s different with my own kids, but that doesn’t mean at their births I donned the cloak of patience and craftiness. No. I have to work at it if I partake at all.
[on topic] Don’t go to fucking sleep on your anger. That’s the bullshittiest phrase ever. Sometimes, I hate my life. I want to run away to Vegas and forget other people. I want to live on the edge…do things I never got a chance to do.
But, then I hear a screech from down the hallway as a streak of blue races by the kitchen. “Potty. I gotta go potty!” And I laugh because my four year old waited too long again. And I love when he gets breathless in his panic. It’s so cute and worth way more than a thousand reckless escapades.