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Monday, November 16, 2009

Misery, thy name is Monday


Sorry I've been a bit absent lately. I have no real excuse for not blogging these past few days except that I've got a head cold and work has been issuing daily beatings in the form of irate clients and cantankerous coworkers.

My weekend was pretty good, but boring. D won first place in the Cub Scouts soap box derby, so it was a proud day in the Bevtastic household.

<---- "I piss excellence."

His prize was a $15 Walmart gift card which immediately started burning a hole in his pocket, so J took him there to exchange it for an Indiana Jones Lego kit and some candy. The thing about my kid is that sugar hits him exactly as I suspect crack cocaine might hit him; within a minute or so of consumption his eyes start darting back and forth and he gets really spazzy. In fact he acts kind of like a dog who is chasing his tail, except with more noise and less slobbering. Well, usually less slobbering.

What else? Hmmm.... Okay, two little things about my crap job that are both irritating and cracking me up today. The first is that my boss is in the hospital suffering from kidney stones, poor fellow -- I've heard they're terribly painful -- so I'm manning the fort here with just my crazy cat lady coworker. As usual she is jabbering at me even as I write this blog post. Hard to believe, right? I'm THAT good at ignoring her! It has taken me 6 years to perfect my aura of impenetrable calmness, but I think it was worth the effort.

Anyway, boss called me a few hours ago all doped up on morphine and tried to work through his haze, because heaven forbid he just take the freaking day off once in a while. It must be hard to be so indispensable, but I honestly wouldn't know. ;) He tried to give me a few instructions for some client work that needs to be done, and those instructions went a little something like this:

1. Sell all of Client McStinkypants' Chevron stock. It's in one of her accounts.

2. Call Client Dingleberry and tell them mumble-mumble-money-eat-paste-mumble.

3. I got that check from Client Golddigger on Saturday, but I'm sorry I don't remember where it is. Maybe my briefcase? Or on my desk? Maybe on the floor of my car? Can you find it because it's for $90,000 and we should probably overnight it to the home office. (I can't find it, btw)

After that fun conversation I got to talk to a certifiably crazy woman who recently inherited $5,000 and you'd think that if she didn't get that money yesterday that the world was coming to an end. Now, over the course of my strange little life I have talked to some incredibly stoned people who made far more sense than she did, so frankly I wonder what she is on. I wish I had some of whatever it is, 'cause that must be some good shit! Talking to her got me all agitated and made me see red for a while I admit, but then I pictured her wearing a tinfoil hat and eating a corn dog and I felt better. It's the little things, you know?



So that's what's going on with me! How are all my paz-eeps today? Good, I hope! I need to go eat something before I gnaw through my desk like a wee little beaver. Yeah, I said beaver. Ya heard me.

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