So I've been feeling a little flat these past few days. Something about giddy excitement and having crazy things happen makes the days that follow seem a little dull. I don't deal well with excitement, I don't think. I get too worked up - like a little kid coming down from a sugar binge. Not that I would know what that feels like. Not me. Not at all.

Something about my celebrity crush calling my house just makes me want more such excitement. I don't get much of that. Instead, I just look at his name in my email inbox and try to refrain from sending him any more dorky emails. His name is in my inbox because he sent me a reply to my "thank you for humoring us" email. His email said something like this:

Dear Adrien,

I think you're totally fantastic and I want to be your best friend. Will you come be a pop culture writer for my show 360? Can I buy you a pony? What did you think of my pin-striped Prada suit last night? Too much with the blue tie?

Love, Andy XOXO

Okay, really, it said nothing like that. At all. Except for the Prada suit part. Okay, not that part either.

I'm such a geek that I love just looking at his name in my inbox "From" list. It's like:

Kate RE: Happy Birthday!
Kate RE: Happy Birthday!
Cooper, Anderson RE: Birthday ponies
Mom RE: hi, have a question
Mom hi, have a question
Kenny RE: new entry

Good lord, I'm a nerd. But it's cool right? Fine, who's in your freaking inbox, then?

PS. Kenny, just remember, this is your doing! You're the husband who's cool enough to go an enable my crush like that. I'm just saying.

**********

Anyway, back to being flat. As in me, not my boobs. So, I'm at work entering the 800-line calls in a spreadsheet (Yes, not only do I have to take random calls from dullards, I also have to document each and every one of them, including the wrong numbers and the hang-ups.) and I'm thinking "God, what a waste of time this is. Really, how much time do I get allotted for the rest of my life and why am I wasting it on this crap?" Is 32 too young for a mid-life crisis?

But then I realized that most of us probably feel this way. Most of us don't have meaningful, life-changing jobs, right? We work so we can frolic on our days off or feed our spawn and keep a roof over our heads. But do I have to loathe it? I've had less meaningful jobs than this (last job description: I help salesmen sell better!) but I've been happy as a clam in my previous useless endeavors. Maybe it's just because I work in a hell-portal?

I'm sinking in, too. While I still loathe it, it's starting to feel vaguely comfortable and not-so-bad. Maybe I just think that because my boss hasn't made me cry in over a week. Which just leads to realize if that's my benchmark for job okayness, something is WRONG.

So I took all the good advice was given and I applied for a job. Yes I did! Its a research job in the field that we market to which makes me vaguely uneasy because it's not a huge field and perhaps the people there know my boss. Eh, who cares. But then! I was flipping through some promotional material and came across a blurb about my boss and it mentioned she used to work there. Oops? Oh well, it's been five years, and I probably won't get an interview anyway. God, if I did and I took the job, she's be simply furious. Hee.

**********

Remember! Tonight! Is! Keen! Eddie! On! Bravo! Screw the President's State of the Union address! Screw Tyra Banks and her Top Unsuitable Models! Keen Eddie!!!1 Take that, Fox Network Executives, you horrible impatient GITS.

PPS. If you dig Anderson Cooper like I do, go to this site and click on "transcripts". He's funny as hell, that Anderson. Okay, I'm seriously shutting up about this now.

43 chatty monkeys