...tries like mad to not claw her eyes out before the claritin takes effect...
i've been creating journal posts in my head almost daily, little interesting things have happened to me here and there, just egads, whenever i do finally get home from work, i'm too exhausted to even think about creating something!
like, for example, this little embarassing tidbit:
i had been working my ASS off all day, running around a million places at a million miles an hour, lifting, shoving, bagging, carrying, you name it. towards the end of the day, i needed to get into front lock up in order to get a toner cartridge that a customer needed, and since none of the managers were paying any attention to my frantic pages, i marched over to the manager's office, where four of them were standing outside, talking about whatever in the world managers talk about (most likely, ball games of their kids or what they're going to have for dinner.) i stomp between the four of them. tony asks 'what can i do ya for?' i wordlesly put my left hand on my hip and WHOOSH my right arm up to point at Front Lock-Up, causing a small gust of air to go swirling around the managers. a tiny scent hit my nostrils when the air hit my face.
holy freaking crap, i forgot to put deodorant on this morning.
and now EVERYONE in management knows.
i dropped my arm hurriedly to my side and shuffled past them into the lock up.
i also wanted to tell you about the kids and walking home. i'll do that in a bit. for now? COFFAY.