(no subject)
First day at work and I recieved as many reprimands as I did congratulations on becoming a new aunt. Let me tell you, that was quite a bit on either end. I love my job.
Items of the day...not worth mentioning, but if I don't validate my life via the internet, I will feel less than whole.
I discovered I have this uncontrollable urge to compensate for my guilt through tipping. Just now, I bought a one dollar mudslide bar from the ice cream man. I tipped him $5. I used to have to holler down the street to get him to turn around and bring me ice cream bars. Now he comes down my little cul-de-sac specifically because I alone put his children through collge. This is a sad commentary on my spending habits. And my eating habits.
Apparently, it's not enough to honk harshly once to bring your point across to the driver who cut you off. One must fully heave oneself onto the horn and apply pressure for prolonged amounts of time to make yourself perfectly clear. Okay I got it man in red honda civic. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for my impass this afternoon. I cannot guarantee that it will never happen again because I have it in my previous record to do so; however, it is within my will to attempt not to do so. Now, can I please have my hearing back.
On another note, I have also discovered that having nurtured a nasty addition to Dr. Pepper for so long, generic options of aformentioned cola are no longer an option. I absolutely believe my body had a physical reaction; almost as if fully rejecting a alien substance, from inbibing Wal-mart's Dr. Thunder. Was that moniker a foreshadowing of what was to come?
At the moment, I am pondering the meaning of a scenario on last night's Super Milk Chan. Robot got made at Kitty for leaving the president to go on a subsidized date. Now here's the question I ask...does that mean that kitty left the president to go prostitute herself? Question number two...how ridiculous is it for me to ponder that question?
On second thought, perhaps I did not have a "physical reaction" to the accused Dr. Thunder. I am currently eyeing the wrappers from the remains of two XXL extra spicy beef and bean chimichangas ( also purchased from said Wal-mart). The mere thought of what I have just ingested not to long ago makes me want to shoot flames from my ass like black cats on a Chinese New Year come a week early. So you can just imagine what the actual process has done to me. I ate two, ladies and gentlemen. Two.
Back to another set of randomness, I don't like to get spare keys made. They don't work. I have better luck clawing through the front door with the well chewed nails of a pre-teen than opening the lock with this spare key. And the prospect of spending money, albeit 97 cents when purchase also at Walmart, does not make me pleasant. Especially when I know the key will only be good for two maybe three more weeks. I say, fuck that. No, I say fuck you.
Ugh. Methinks I will go and die in the bathroom now.
That is all.
-the end-