January 13th, 2005

disco star

i'm a turtle, as you can see, a little slow, a little green, but on the whole i'd say... supa dupa!

note turned into HR today:

"i would like to request march 17th through the 22nd off. i am turning 30 and need the time off in order to cope. i shall return to work, in my thirties, on march 23rd."

heck, since my birthday is on a saturday, why NOT take almost a week off?!?

health wise, i've been feeling like utter dookie. and not even the colorful, exciting dookie with the corn interlaced in it, just plain dookie. maybe even the dark dookie that you get occasionally that makes you wonder what in the WORLD you consum-..... okay, shutting up now.

at least about poo. health wise, i feel cucky, weak, sore, sick to my stomach, much like i'm teetering on the edge of either Utter Greatness or that the Dragon of Flu-ey Doom is going to swim up and grab me by the ears and sink me down into the Influenza Abyss.

mood wise? i'm doing good. quite good. my mother is getting better, physically and mentally, which has put me in beyond a wonderful mood. i really DO need to call my step dad and see how he's faring. my excuse is that when i get home, due to time differences, they may already be in bed, being that they're old and live in the midwest. yes, it's interlaced.

got $100 more than i thought i would on my paycheck. this also pleases me.

i also have the house to myself the entire weekend. i can dance and prance round in my underoos and sing into a hairbrush microphone all weekend, should it please me to do so. (durned it, why DON'T they make underoos for adults?!? i really should change the picture i have somewhere of me in my wonder woman underoos into an avatar. i mean really. but first i need to find it. at first, i typed 'burt furst'... i'm even slurring in my typing.)

it also seems that the more newbs that get hired at work, the more that management loves lil ol' me. rawk.
clowns

Rah-rah-in' sis-boom-bah-in' all the way to state this year

so i come home from work, sore, tired, a tad cranky, and all sorts of weary.

so i did what every lil smurf would do after a long day of work:

i went shopping.

now, for those that do not know me for reals, know this: I HATE SHOPPING. most days, i would rather shove heated needles under my big toe nail than to go shopping, but andrea was going, and i DESPERATELY need work pants (since i *cough* tore the last ones, i've been resorting to wearing my khaki skirt instead *remember my thighs that cannot be fettered by mere material from when i first started working again? yeah. they hath strucketh again...*). why do i hate shopping, you ask? or maybe you're praying i won't TELL you. but i will. i hate shopping because.. well, i'm just about the worst person that you ever did meet when it comes to making decisions. i cannot make a difinitive decision to save my life most days. i weigh pros and cons until the cows come home and then leave for work again in the morning. grocery shopping is THEE WORST. things you HAVE to buy, but there's SO MANY FLIPPING VERSIONS?!?! *sob* and yes, i'm a horrible person to date, just for that reason. i once dated a guy named brian, back in my 20's, and neither of us were good at making definitive decisions, so we... well, we never really did anything. just sat around and talked a lot, after debating for hours as to what to go out and do.

and i got lost in the sock aisle.

being a pisces, i am thusly ruled by my feet. i had just been thinking today at work, as i'm wearing my long khaki skirt and my black and white striped socks, how sad i was because my socks were not knee high, and how i desperately need more knee high socks. and if i need more knee high socks - in non traditional print, to be sure - i DEFINITELY need more toe socks.

and i accidentally *tripped* into the clearance socky section at Target. i've never SEEEN so many socks in my LIFE that were on blowout speshal. i ended up coming home with something like fourteen pairs of socks, including two pairs of toe socks, countless knee highs, some wooly things, and a 9 pack of boring ol' regular socks. so, i guess if anyone ever wishes to know what in the world to ever get me for gifts, you can NEVER go wrong with the following:

- blank journals... i freaking LOVE the things, though i never write in them. but i love HAVING them. they're purdy.
- gift bath sets. i love bath sets, ESPECIALLY when they're in a nifty little package along with other nifty little bath things that match. rawk.
- socks. funkay socks. i still have my pair that shari sent me with Happy Birthday written on them in Hebrew. in pink and orange? they're purdy AND they rawk.

i can't take myself seriously, so why should my feet?
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