What and Ever.
Tuesday, Feb. 04, 2003 @ 4:42 p.m.

What and Ever.

I don't know what to write about. More job bitching? More gym bitching? More celebrity memos? More lists? All of the above, you say? Okay then. At least one of those should be funny, right? I hate being boring, which is why I'll never tell y'all about my dreams because nothing is more boring than hearing about someone else's dreams. And then I was suddenly in my mom's house, but it wasn't really my mom's house and I was eating olive loaf and I was naked! But I wasn't really naked...

I will say, the view out the big window is killing me. Hi, warm weather, blue sky and big fluffy clouds. The nice day is mocking me while I stew and grumble in my beige cube. Stupid clouds. Spring is going to be sheer torture. Note to self: find new job before things get too pretty.

Job Bitching:
Spirit training. Cow Bells. Spirit training with cow bells. One of my co-workers just said "there's a special place in hell for corporate motivational trainers". No kidding. A few months ago, Bank of X sent all the employees off to "Spirit Training" sessions. I guess they were trying to counter-act the suckiness of everyone's job by brainwashing them back to cheerfulness? Who the fuck knows. All I know is that my force-field of Temporary Employee shielded me from having to attend, thank God.

When the drone troops returned, they were buoyed by fake cheer and armed with cow bells. Does it not seem like a bad idea to give cow bells to large groups of office workers? Especially, when, say, other non-bell-owning workers are ON THE FREAKING PHONE?

So,today their were several "Spirit Celebrations", I suppose to make sure the brainwashing was still in effect. Everyone was urged to attend the session and "bring your cow bells!" Fucking cow bells. I've been listening to them all day.

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Gym Bitching:

Memo to new instructor: The class is called JustWeights. Not SomeWeights, not IDon'tKnowWhatI'mDoingWeights, not Let'sDoLegLiftsInsteadOfWeights. It's JUST Weights. Got it? I take this class to lift weights, not to watch you avoid them.

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Celebrity Memo:

Memo to: Tar@ R eid
Subject: Holy Hell.

Girl. Fire your friends. Fire your stylist. Fire yourself. Fire whoever lied and told you that dress was a good idea. Your boobs are embarrassed by it. Hell, the dress is embarrassed! Poor dress, it didn't ask to be made.

Moving on, you've been rocking the heavy black eyeliner/shiny lipgloss for a few years now and it isn't looking any better. Your eyes look squinty and beady, but maybe that's what you're going for? Somehow I doubt it. Also, invest in some pressed powder, STAT.

Finally, self-tanner is not your friend. You're orange, sister. Not tan, orange. You could be a pretty girl but instead you choose to look like an Oompa-Loompa. Whatever.

To recap: Dress: burn it. Face: scrub it. Self-tanning lotion: drop it and back away slowly.

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List of random things that undeniably suck:

- Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Suck
- radio DJs
- Joe Millionaire
- "Smile!" from random strangers
- "The Heart of Rock 'N Roll" (currently being piped in for my listening pleasure)
- Whichever asshole neighbor is letting their dog take huge dumps right outside our porch stairs.

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Currently reading even though I swore I wasn't going to start any more new books: Nickel and Dimed, by Barbara Ehrenreich

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"And I said, I don't care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I'm, I'm quitting, I'm going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they've moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and its not okay because if they take my stapler then ill set the building on fire."
-Milton Waddams

0 chatty monkeys

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