I'm eating a biblical tortilla. I recommend against it. Kinda chewy.
Natter 32 Flavors and Then Some
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
I'm pretty sure there was a rat in my office last night. There were empty chocolate milk cartons in the trash, and this morning they have been ripped to absolute shreds, and strewn about the entire office.
The guy that I called just came in and set up four or five snap traps. I am so creeped out right now. I HATE mice/rats. HATE. They're a phobia of mine, like some people don't do heights, or whatever. I really, really, really hate them, and I want to go home. I am not focusing. I am not working. I am sitting on my chair with my feet up, feeling my skin crawl.
I don't know what to do. Maybe I should just leave, even though I really need the hours. Darn it.
Ack. God. I am so creeped out right now.
Oh crap, Alibelle. How totally nasty.
Is there another office you could borrow Ali?
That's rough, Alibelle. Bad enough if you don't have a phobia about them. Can you keep yourself really busy?
I got BK I got BK. am happy. am so easy.
Thanks, guys. I think I'm going to finish up a couple little things in here, and then run. I just got an email from my boss saying that she won't be here today, and I guess that means I could just go work in her office, but hers is dirtier than mine, and right next door to it, so it's just as rat accessible. Even if hers doesn't currently have rat shreddings everywhere.
I completely spaced on 24 last night. Can someone give a quick summary?
All this tax talk is making me queasy. I've filed online for the past two years and it's been a little slice of heaven. Of course, I also can file with just the quick and dirty 1040 and that's loads of fun. I think I have everything I need, but I'm a little paranoid that something has gotten lost in the mail in the middle of the move and I've got visions of audits dancing in my head.
Also, I was catching up in Bureacracy (cause sometimes I'm a glutton for punishment) and realized that I had no idea that 32 flavors and then some came from an Ani DiFranco song. I only associate it with that annoyingly curly-headed girl who used it in that song all over MTV a few years back where she sang "I am what I am" over and over, causing many, many odd and surely unintentional Popeye moments.
Somehow, when you say cubicle, it makes it seem like a disease. With festering.
Now that you bring it up, if I had some kind of festering disease, I wouldn't want a camera pointed at it. I'm just saying.
Festering. Bad for me, bad for everybody.
If that is the case, I hope they leave the cameras rolling for the ensuing carnage.
My coworker is, I think, entertained by my unending mockery of people who seem to have forgotten how to do their jobs.
I'm eating a biblical tortilla.
I... biblical tortilla?