OK, I've completed my emergency trip to the fabric store for One More Thing. I worked on my quilt for awhile. Then Mishka came over and sat down on it because it is His. He interfered with me until I had to either take a nap with him or take action. Darn those fuzzy kitties and their purring and wet noses and nefarious ways anyway.
I could vacuum, but really I don't wanna. Couldn't I just settle for changing the kitty litter and taking out the garbage?
Juliana: this is the stage where you get to write all the blistering communication you want to. It's only the sending of these materials to the recipient that is forbidden right now, for as Hec said, who wants more trouble later? High road my friend, take the high road. I hear it's sometimes worth it!!!
As for inappropriate job applications, my favorite was from the Jesus freak in Santa Cruz whose resume told us that he had spent the last ten years in the mountains worshipping ganja, but now he was ready to work with us. We kept that one around as a Horrible Warning.
I just counted my cover letters. I've applied for over 85 jobs in the past year. Interviews = 0. It's just as well my current job hasn't gone away yet.
Oh, ugh, I remember being in that boat. Sucks.
worshipping ganja?
Maybe you could've made him bring the donuts...
Well, it's official, Johnny Damon will have to cut his hear.
Think of it as a ritual cleansing...
t ducks
Did I read Natter right? ita may have a chance at a Braugher sighting?! That would be totally cool!
(I would love to meet him, but I'd just come off stupid, anyway. Although not as stupid or pervy as if it were Secor.)
Slimmest of slim chances, erika.
Phew! I got a package in from the FedEx guy at 4:43 that I wanted to ship out in time for Christmas. I quickly slapped a Priority sticker on it and drove to the post office getting there at 4:48 and was back in my car by 4:49. I love when stuff works out right.
Oh, holy hell. The rage just kicked in, big-time. I am assuming that it will do this on occasion for a good long while, yes? The trick is not to send any scathing letters or emails when in the grip of it, yes? Because damned if I couldn't tear him apart with my bare hands right the fuck now. Anyhoo. Big breaths. Possibly an Ativan, so I don't kill any innocent coworkers. Mmmm, drugs....
Yeah, pretty much. KB is wise; write whatever you like, but don't send. And remember, these are your feelings, and it's perfectly ok to have them.
