current mood: cold...and sorta happy
it's a chilly day here at cgr (my apt, colonial grand at riverchase) in the center of hell. oops, i was just about to say something about my ants dying off, but there goes one across the screen. geez, i don't even have the energy to get rid of him. they're starting to overpower me, and i'm pretty sure i'm just going to end up signing my lease over to them. he's standing on "them" right now...HE KNOWS.
um, ok, so it was my first day back at work, and let me tell you, for all the sh*% i've been through with this ass thing (well, that censoring didn't work well, huh?), i didn't really, truly appreciate how HARD my fanny works ALL DAY, even when i'm not doing anything! all the walking around i did and standing and attempting to sit and repeating my horrendously graphic and disgusting story to about 900 people, MY BUTT IS KILLING ME. at least people missed me. that was...weird. i kept checking the mail every day, thinking i would get one in there that was like:
You are an idiot, and no one here believes your surgery / butt cyst story. You may has well have told us they pulled a gold-plated monkey out of your ass.
Everyone at Your Work
PS. You're so totally fired, so don't bother coming in to shoot up the place, because we already know what you look like.
but it actually DIDN'T go down like that. everyone was very kind and interested in my butt. (but my monkey's feelings were huuuurt, let me tell you...) much to heather's chagrin, i'm sure, i haven't shown my butt to anyone...YET. she told me, "i know you think no one believes you, but they do, and please, because i know you're going to...DON'T show anyone."
hey, what's wrong with my pigtail? i kinda like it now. &=) other than the fact that it feels like i constantly have to take a crap (tmi, i know, but remember who's site this is = NOT YOURS), i kinda dig being able to say, "um, could you watch that? you almost smashed my pigtail," and people giving me that WAAAAY too curious look that always ends up in the spanish inquisition. and everyone knows me - "mouth of the south," what mom always used to call me! hey, i came by it honestly, so get off. anyway, my point being, i always point out the blatently obvious or bring up the stuff that no one wants to talk about. they know i talk too much. YOU know i talk too much. which means this entire paragraph was pretty irrelevant...
wtf, why is my "delete" key not working? jesus h palomino on the top of a friggin house with a banana in his hand, GOD! i keep telling these asses who live with me to STOP F____ WITH MY COMPUTER! dammit, every friggin TIME i come in here, something's weird with this thing. god.
GET OUT!!!! EVERYBODY JUST GET OUT!
anyway, i'm finished. i still don't know why the key doesn't work (gordon, why doesn't it work?). omg, this totally makes me want to choke someone. those are like the two things that piss me off the most in the universe - when someone messes with my computer, and when someone eats ANY of my krispy kreme doughnuts. oh, yeah, you're looking at MAD, then. i mean CURSING mad. i didn't BUY THEM FOR YOU. YOU are not ON your period. YOU did not just HAVE some femalian surgery and now your fanny is broken and you can't even stop crying long to take a bite of the one doughnut you got, because you've already cried so hard for so long that NOW you're snubbing, and if you put the doughnut in your mouth, you might aspirate it into your lungs, whereas you'll more than likely contract pneumonia and have to be put in the hospital, and lemme tell you, ain't NOBODY gonna believe THAT string of bad luck. not even me, and i've been there, pal.
ok, well, yeah, and i guess i need to fess up. i haven't done all of this on my own. (well, most of it i have. like, the cyst-having was my idea.) my friend ricky (whitaker) has been helping me. uh, we met on a dating website (go ahead and cringe, but the only place i go is heather's, and i don't meet any new guys there - just the lawn guys and the mailman - the mailman was "busy" and the lawn guys have girlfriends. fyi, i don't GO OUT, so get off me)....(that was a joke, btw - i don't really hit on the people around her house - i make her take me down to the piggly-wiggly, so i can stalk guys in produce), and i was planning on helping him out through a rough patch in his life, but i think he's ended up helping me way more than i have him, although i'm pretty sure he'd beg to differ. and yes, we're dating. this was not the "jennifer's halfway house of ulterior motives," although i know from first glance, it sure as hell looks that way. the way we ended up was weird, but we're together now, so meh. i like him. he's a nice guy, and he's NOT mean to me. so, i found one who can be nice and NOT make me feel like crap. on the downside, he's had a lot of acid in his past and now sees tracers and talks to himself about 110% of the time, but hey, you take the good with the strange. he adores me, and HE DOESN'T HIT ME. i mean, not that phil did, but you get me. i still love phil, and i'd like to be his friend one day, but right now, i'm still weird. i've never been friends with an ex before, and i haven't been researching the subject heavily.
woah! my delete key just spontaneously started working again! um, ok jeff, i take back all that stuff i was saying about you in my head. *erk*
ok, so what happened today? ahhh, nothing. a bunch of people asked me where i was, we got new flooring in the dept, so all of our equipment is now in place, and i got to go see the new orthpaedic clinic being built where old sports medicine was. it's pretty gutted and bare to think that bitch has to be ready BEFORE oct 18. wow. oh, and our 3 best techs are going downstairs (don't really know what they were thinking with THAT move, but i'm not boss, so i don't care), brenda, dina & megan. i'll miss them, cause they're my favorites. as for sheryl (aforementioned spawnette of satan), i hear she's changing shifts, but i don't care SO MUCH that i didn't even ask. maybe her shift will be her working 4p-11p...with alligators...in a pit...of chicken guts. nah, just kidding. we're ok, i just don't really care. and i want it to stay that way.
i know, i know. you think i'm just a cold-hearted bitch. and you'd be right, but only by a percentage. if you ask what percentage, i'd say "a hat made out of weenies" because i don't know. actually, i want to BE a weenie for halloween, but i don't know who sells weenie costumes. i don't WANT the bun on it. just the weenie. why is that so hard for people to understand?? JUST THE WEENIE.
ok, enough, ENOUGH of this nonsense. i have to go tend to things about harper haven (we're gay-friendly, btw, no matter what the guys say). and booboo is staring at me through the sliding glass door, which usually means, "you give me fake mice covered in colorful fabrics to play with and expect me to be satisfied with that. come sit with me for 5 minutes out of your extraordinarily busy day." so, i'm gonna.
oh, and for those of you keeping up with my medical condition, i have to go to the ER for my 5th butt-probing visit tomorrow morning. HOPEFULLY, this will be the last in the series of pigtails, although i will feel quite naked without a GIANT BANDAGE ON MY ASS. i've been taking my antibiotics like a good girl, and i'm even afraid i might have taken them twice this morning. but hey, if this thing was on YOUR butt...yeah...that's what i thought.
one more thing - um, if i ever make any grammatical errors, please DON'T overlook them. send me an em or a comment and chastise the crap out of me. i mean, i DO have a tendency to make up my own words, even my own swears, and sometimes i try to spell sounds, but anything that we learned in the 2nd grade, that i apparently didn't pick up on, let me know.
omg, i just remembered --- mine was the word "because". ARRRRRGGG!!! i've hated that word ever since the 2nd grade. mrs. thomas made us go to the blackboard and write words, and mine was "because, and so i went up there, and spelled it "beacause" or something stupid like that, and she was like, "no, SIT DOWN," and EVER SINCE THEN, i've NEVER misspelled that word. how about that? the tortured stories of a once-overachiever. i'm the ONLY person i know who has the dictionary/thesaurus bookmarked on her computer as second under google. freak, huh?
ok, i'm stopping now. i really could go on, but i guess i want to GAIN readers, not KILL them.
in the words of duplicate calvin, "hoffa gut tay"! &=)