It's one of those days when even my cuticles hurt. I don't know why, and I am annoyed at hearing myself complain. My desk lamp is broken and my hair sucks. I am either overmedicated or in drizzling pain. The kind that just makes you want to snap people's heads off for no apparent reason. It makes me feel sympathetic towards really bitchy women in the Costco parking lot who do stupidly mean things and nobody knows why. I think maybe they have drizzling pain as well. Today Aaron Linder was pushing carts with me, and as if he were reading my mind, he was speculating aloud about how great it would be to be able to pick one member at the end of each cart shift that we could beat up. Beat up for being stupid, and for being clueless and careless and completely self absorbed. That they would be bearing the consequence for all of the other thoughtless, selfish members that visited that day seems less important than the delight of working our irritation out on someone. I of course interjected that we should be allowed to save up member choices and trade five in for one good Michael Charles Pritchard beating, since he comes on the days he feels like, posing as the cart supervisor, works for 5 hours, takes 6 breaks and basically does nothing all day except be annoying, ogle cute members, and smoke cigarettes.
I almost quit today. It was one of those days when the combination of drizzling pain, overmedication, Michael Charles Pritchard and stupid members were enough to convince me I must really be in hell and had died, unbeknownst to myself. The four new overdraft charges on stupid little $1.27 transactions didn't help, as I watched in horror my nearly $800 paycheck evaporate to less than $300 overnight, with no proactive bill paying on my part. This must be hell, because there is nothing more senseless than things like $35 overdraft charges on $1.27 expenses. God help me.
I talked to stupid Leeroy. Which probably only confirmed my hellish existence, as I came to the conclusion that I not only A) still love him hopelessly, foolishly, and wrongfully, but I also B) need to find someone to date to distract me from A). I would like to just move on. I would like to just spend time with someone and have fun. Talk, hang out. I would like to hold a hand. Lean on a shoulder. Feel a touch on my back. I'd like to argue about where to eat, or who pays the tab more often, or who listens to worse music. I'd like to wake up with arms and legs wrapped around me that didn't belong to a sweaty six year old, although for the time being I will take her.
On the bright side of all of this, since MacKenzie somehow made the lamp by my bed quit working when she jumped at the balloon stuck to the ceiling of my bedroom, I dug into my eBay cache and pulled down a vintage lamp with a fredrick and nelson shade that had been in my room when I was little, and plugged it in next to me, and it makes my room feel so much more... cool, than the old functional desk lamp did. The fact that my kids and mom surprised me with a spotlessly clean room and feel better cards when I got home helped too. Along with the relief I had knowing that my vibrator was packed safely away in the storage unit so my mom and kids didn't stumble across it during their intensely thorough cleaning.
So all in all, maybe hell isn't as bad as one would think. other than the drizzling pain. I could do without that. So I think I will stay overmedicated until my prescriptions wear off, which should be just as soon as I am thoroughly addicted, so I can enjoy the withdrawals while I push carts and mediate middle school homework. And it was sunday, which means I got paid time and a half, so that's almost twice as many overdraft charges that I can afford next week! Yay!
I don't know, I think I like your hair. the bang, not so much, but the short hair seems right.
ReplyDelete