Such a humid, grodie, day. I opted to wear a very thin, but long sleeve blouse [because the AC unit in our suite seems to be retarded and does not stay at a normal temp] with a pair of jeans and slippers [flip flops, to you]. I would have worn something a bit more professional if the day wasn't so sticky and if the Big R would've informed me in advance that a meeting was being held. She of course was aptly wearing something presentable.

"Oh, just so you know, [name deleted] is coming in for a meeting."

Well thanks for telling me. I'm glad I'm wearing this and not my 'Butches World of Meats...size does matter," tee.

She chuckles. To think I stopped by DD's and grabbed an extra bagel for her.

I am never, ever, ever, going to forive l for taking a two day vacation leaving me with her. Now I know how l feels, when I'm not in the office on Tuesdays or am away for long weekends.

I don't understand how she can freak out over some of her job duties which include adding a new cell phone to our corporate account or entering information into a database?

"emma, you will not believe how busy I am. I am freaking out. I am so way behind. Will you help me?"

DUDE, I TYPE AN AVERAGE OF FOUR REPORTS PER WEEK, REPORTS THAT ARE 50 PAGES LONG. I HAVE CASES TO ASSIGN. REPORTS TO GET OUT. AND YOU WANT ME TO STOP TO HELP YOU SO YOU WON'T BE WAY BEHIND? SURE, LET ME STOP WHAT I'M DOING SO I CAN TAKE WORK HOME AND WORK 60 HOUR WEEKS TO CALL THE CELL PHONE COMPANY FOR YOU.

okay, it didn't exactly happen like that but you get the gist. I'm a fairly calm person...to a point. She asked me why I was staying late and I politely told her that I wasn't able to finish a job cuz I had to call the cell phone company for her. She kept begging me to leave. Now, how does one politely tell someone to stop telling you what to do? There is no kind way if it's coming out of my pie hole. I asked her to stop asking me to leave the office, quit being so dramatic cause it was starting to get annoying.

I just can't believe it. I can't take it anymore. She freaks out over the stupidest things and it is stressing me out.

Calgon, blow me away.

It's gloomy out.

I like it.

If you go outside and take a deep breath, you can smell a storm trying to break through. Well, I don't know about you, but I can.

I wanna hear the thunder, see a few lightning bolts. I'm in that kind of mood.

Yesterday after work I was exhausted. I left the office at 4:30 and as soon as I arrived home, I napped. I woke up around 7ish, perspiring, hair matted to my head, and wished a cold glass of water would magically appear in my hand. I layed there for a few minutes then got up, cooked some dinner and called Catherine to have our nightly conversations.

Have I mentioned lately that I hate my job?

I believe today was the first day at the office where I was not able to daydream or look for jobs online.

Gosh I was so busy. I even had to ask l to help me out a little. I felt so discombobulated by midafternoon, I was in my own little world, editing, taking calls, being very productive.

By the time I looked at the clock, it was 5. She'd ask me if I needed help, I'd say no, and she'd say, 'are you sure,' and I'd wanna say, 'I'm positive and the more you talk to me the more I don't get anything done.' I refrained of course and cut off the one way convo. by placing my humongous headphones over my ears.

Next thing I know, as I was closing up shop, B, the COO who's still at the office tells me he's lost his car keys.

"DAMN. I guess you have to help him look for them." Says the little angel on my right shoulder.

I look at my watch. It's 6:30 PM

"Uh, no you don't. Go home, he's a COO. He can find his own way home." Says the little devil on my left shoulder.

I let out a big sigh.

I gave him the choice of renting a car, taking a train, or staying at a hotel [cuz you sure as hell ain't(sic)stayin' with me and I ain't(sic) drivin' you to CT., either] if he couldn't find his keys. I ended up staying 'till 7. Finally after a few phone calls I found out that he left them in the mens bath room. Someone found them and was kind enough to hold the keys at their office. As this was all happening, my nose started bleeding, very heavily at that. I walk over to the office suite with B, holding my nose with a kleenex and finally tell him he was on his own and I was going to go home to nurse my nose.

He thanks me profusely for helping him out, promises me lunch. You bet your ass. That, and I get 2 hours comp time, g-damnit.

Enough about work.

Here's another thing I have to worry about:

Cell phone rings, it's Bing.

Bing: Did your brother get a motorcycle?

Me: Uh, not that I know of, I mean he was suppose to but we all discouraged it.

Bing: Oh cause I was driving on Washington and saw this nice looking bike. Well, I turned to look at him and it was Gerald.

Me: So he DID buy one. Man. Was he wearing a helmet?

Bing: No.


Picture me with a tissue stuffed up my left nostril, freaking out. What is his issue? He KNOWS he has to wear a helmet. There's no question about it. I don't get why he has to have a motorcycle. I've already experienced his driving and it scares me that he now has a bike.

Ugh.

I don't know what makes him think that just because he's depressed he has to live in filth. I mean, I know I'm going through some ups and downs right now but I still manage to wipe the stove off after cooking or rinse the sink out after I've brushed my chiclets.

And for G's sake, I came home last week to a kitchen counter scattered with penne pasta that had apparentley fallen out of the cupboard. That was on Monday. Thursday I started cleaning it up because I couldn't take it anymore.

I'd like to start inviting friends over without having to have them make appointments to come see me because my apartment is too dirty.

I'm tired of cleaning to no avail. I'm just tired period!

On another note, I'm gettin' serious pains from the two wisdom teeth that need to be extracted. I have yet to make an appointment with the oral surgeon. I think I'm gonna get a second opinion. Though, I don't think another DMD needs to reassure me that one wisdom tooth is growin' in sideways and the other, upside down. I'm just scared to have some complete stranger chisel away at my pie hole.

Tomorrow's Monday. I hate work.

On, another, another note, I'm looking forward to several things that I've got goin' on, one of which I'm going to roll out soon.

I'm off to dreamland.