So Much for That

Tell me, Joe, how relieved were you when you got work? When you knew you could text me and not have to lie about not coming up? Was it a huge weight off your shoulders? Did it alleviate the leaden feeling in your stomach? Perhaps I'm being naive in thinking you weren't lying about that. After all, I also believed that you'd tell me if you weren't interested and not just blow me off.

All that stuff about looking for this for the last 20 years? Guess that was a lie. So wait, you do lie? I'm confused. I'm confused as to why you couldn't tell me you changed your mind. I supposed you don't owe me anything. After all, our "relationship" was stillborn. You just didn't seem the type.

'Cause I'll admit I was messed up this weekend. I started thinking that my pheromones should be bottled as an alternative to Mace or pepper-spray. A non-lethal, yet wickedly effective man-repellent.

Yes, I got a little weird Friday night but I thought we were over that. Was it because I admitted I liked you? A lot? Was I not playing by the rules that we had been ignoring anyway? Or was it because you're so convinced that you are a crazy-magnet that you couldn't believe that I was any different? That despite my mostly normal behavior I was going to show up at your doorstep with a ball-gag, a gallon of Maalox and some rubber sheets?

So I don't know who to blame. Me, for being mildly awkward? Or you, for not having the balls to tell me? Either way, it's lose-lose, Joey.

No, You Cannot "Haz A Cheezburger"!

I am done with LOLCats. I am done with the cutesy baby-talk, the invisible sandwiches, the ceiling cats, the weirdly inconsistent misspellings. Prime example: Why would "rigorous" be incorrect, but "quality" not? Wouldn't "qwality" make more sense? And how is "teh" in anyway like "the"? Oh yes, it's not!

I'm not going to claim that my cats are the smartest beasts on this earth, but I sure as hell believe they could string together a coherent sentence, with a minimum of misspellings. And based on their begging habits, I think they'd be more likely to ask "Can I have some of that maple-honey turkey?" than for a "cheezburger".

So, good-bye, kittehs. I'll stick with my cats.

Monday Morning Randomness

I've been at work, working even, for 30 minutes and I completely forgot to log into my phone. Not the bestest way to start the week. I really hope that no one gives me any shit because my timesheet is going to say I started work at 10:30am but the phone log is going to say 11am.

Still working on the damn training binders. I still have a couple of days to get it done, but it is really hard to get into a rhythm. Mostly because I have papers spread all over everything and I get tired of walking in circles. If my damn boss didn't hate me, I wouldn't be dealing with this.

A strange thing has been happening to me. I have these periods of intense horniness. OK, maybe that's not so weird, but it's weird because they usually start while I'm in my car. Not anyone else's car, just mine. I'll be fine, just feeling regular, get in the car to go to work, and BAM! I'm all bitch in heat. And it fucking lingers. It happened to me on the way to work this morning, and I'm STILL twitchy. I know I'm mid-cycle, but this is nonsense. It's almost as bad as the time I went off the pill when I was living in CA. I practically wore out my (ex) husband's wee-wee. It makes it very hard to concentrate.

Oh, and my apartment is leaking again. I have a terrible feeling there may be a crack in the foundation. I also have a terrible feeling that I'm going to get home today and maintenance will have ripped out my carpet (again) and there will be a mess (again).

Please, No Hope

I know it's been a while since I've posted, but I didn't really want to write about my sick grandpa, my shit job and my shit boss, or how the Wii chastised me for gaining 0.9lbs. Huh, guess I just did. Oops.

I also didn't want to talk about how I'm going to miss writing to my pen pal, or that I have a date. Mostly because the people reading this already know these things.

Which doesn't leave much to write about, now does it? Because we all know that this is not the place for learned discourse.

I supposed I could talk about how I'm newly (mostly) addicted to The Pioneer Woman. She cooks a lot and most of it looks delicious. jr and I are planning on making her cinnamon rolls soon. Or eventually. Though, I gotta say, I kind of hate her. Not because she seems like an awful person or anything. No, I hate her because she had the fairy tale. Met a cowboy, fell in love, lives on a ranch in OK. Now, I don't hate her because I want to live that life. I have no idea what kind of life I want. I hate her because it gives me hope. Maybe hope isn't the best word, but I can't really think of a better way to put it. It makes me think "Well, hey! She got swept away and is deliriously happy with her cowboy husband, cattle ranch, kids, Lodge, homeschooling, etc. Maybe I will get swept up by the perfect man and live in the perfect place."

Yes, I realize that her life has its pitfalls. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't like to have to bottle-feed a calf milk replacement. Or have to worry about stepping in manure just walking across the yard. I think she's so content in her life that those things just don't matter.

What's my point? My point is that my hatred is really just ridiculous envy. And I'm angry with myself for thinking that I need to be swept away to feel fulfilled. That I'm in need of rescuing. When I'm really just too lazy to get off my ass and change things.

Oh, and I know there are those of you who would like to make Carrie the Cowgirl jokes. Don't.

Lemme Out!

It has been 4:45 for about an hour now. This has been the longest afternoon of my life. All I want to do it go home, make a cheeseburger (thanks a lot, jr!), exercise (maybe exercise before cheeseburger?), and then go to the movies with my buddy. I don't think that's too much to ask.