Thursday, August 28, 2003

ZIP A DEE DOO DAH

I am in such a good mood this morning. I even woke up 15 minutes before my alarm and got up to pee like 8 times last night. Too much information?

I wrote this yesterday, intending to post it yesterday but went a different route, so I'll post it today...

Man. Just when I think the day is going to be all sunshine and roses, along comes one of Satchel’s customers to take a big ol’ shit right in the middle and fuck it all up. One of our customers is oh, about 60 years old, a big sort of lumbering man. No front teeth, and can’t hear for shit. We’ll call him Cubby. Well Cubby owns a company that requires use of our services, and from time to time he brings us in something to fix or take a look at or what have you. I never had a problem with him before… I can’t stand his wife. She always calls sounding just oh so put out and at her wits end over something. Not very pleasant at all. Anyway Cubby’s been in a couple times this week, which is a rarity. Today he waltzes in, and makes a small stink about the fact that the parts he ordered weren’t correct. I had asked Satchel to get off his fat fucking ass and come up to the front to deal with HIS customer but you know how lazy sacks of shit can be. “Just give him the merchandise” … so when Cubby tells me he wants the five prong insert whatchamacallit instead of the two prong or whatever the fuck he was trying to say, I held up my hand and smiled. “just a moment, Satchel will have to help you out on this, as he knows a lot more about the product than I do.” I pick up the parts and march back to fat ass’s office. He looks up from his phone call and I hold up the parts and say quietly “YOU.need.to.come.up.front.” As I make my way back to my desk I hear the tell tale sounds of fingernail clippers. It takes a second to register… and yep. My fears are realized. That senile old fuck is clipping his fingernails in our front lobby. At my Desk. ON. MY. FUCKING. DESK. I had to curb every urge to cuff the rude bastard up the side of his head whilst grabbing him by the ear and screaming “DIDN’T YOUR MOTHER EVER TEACH YOU ANY FUCKING MANNERS?” I mean seriously here… am I the only one who thinks that is one of the most vile fucking things you can do in a public space? Pardon me. I know I am just a lowly receptionist. But I do not think it’s in my job description that I have to brush your raggedy ass nail clippings off my fucking desk. ARG! But hey why stop there? Why don’t you go ahead and take a piss in my water bottle while you’re at it. I was absolutely enraged at the sight. Luckily Satchel’s call had ended and he went up to the lobby to greet Cubby and the two retreated to Satchel’s den of iniquity. About two minutes later I heard the sounds again, and yes the old bastard was clipping his nails in Satchel’s office. How RUDE! How Gross! And how fucking inconsiderate. People man… I hate them.

So I went to the dentist yesterday, and am sad to say it did not go as smoothly as I had hoped. About 5 minutes into the procedure… the dentist had removed the temporary (which went far better than the last time.) and was going to seat and cement the permanent crown. But first he had to clean off the temporary cement. Ie: scrape the shit out of my tooth and gums. The tooth had had a root canal so it was all good. I couldn’t feel it really; just the sensation. Then he started poking the gum tissue around the tooth. And the gums… well they don’t play that. After one particular jolt with the metal scraper thing into my poor gums, they peeled me off the ceiling and quickly hooked me up to the nitrus, and gave me some novacaine. I didn’t get a very good buzz on the nitrus at all, but it’s ok. At least I didn’t want to cry anymore. I’m a baby… I admit it, I embrace it, and more than that I’m ok with that. Geeze, was that a Stuart Smalley moment or what? ? Oy. Turns out the geniuses at the lab didn’t make a perfect match for the mold the dentist sent them, so the crown wouldn’t fit. After much scraping and fitting and flossing and what have you, and generally pushing me to the brink of suicide he decided that we better make a new mold and just put the temporary back on. Great. Marvelous. But as he said: “Better to do it right than to have you come back with bigger problems in a year.” Thanks for that at least.

I switched up my workout routine. I finally took the advice of about a bazillion people… namely my sister because she claims that she’s told me this over and over. (and she probably has, but I’m thick headed what can I say?) Instead of the same 45 minutes on the treadmill followed by situps I did 45 minutes on the elyptical machine and then did about 11 minutes or so… 100 cals on the stationary bike. I felt really good and shaky when I was done. It's a struggle... 45 minutes is a long time for me to comit to such a boring fucking activity. But I got through it, and like the fact that my whole self is moving for that period of time, rather than the majority of the movement being done by my lower body.

...

That's the end of that entry. I did the elyptical machine again last night, and let me tell you it.was.a.struggle. The last 15 minutes in particular... the last 11 minutes were an experience of cruelty. But I did it. And I'm gonna do it again today.

I had a nice surprise yesterday when I saw that I had been linked!!! I am such a geek, I love it when other people link me. Much thanks to Suzanne, (I read her blog daily). I am way into the journals and blogs of stay at home moms, and those dealing with pregnancy or new marriages. Who am I kidding I just love to read about other people's lives period. Congrats too to Rachel and Bill who just welcomed a baby girl this week. Their site is down right now; but I imagine it'll be up again soon.

Today is someone's birthday... and she's older than ME! But sadly, not by much.



Here's an old picture of us together... Gothic whores for halloween. We were obsessed with the movie 'The craft' at the time... "I'm your daughter now!" And no, that is NOT a real tattoo on my chest.

Happy Birthday Tatum!


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