Well, I�m mighty pleased with myself today� I managed to mostly sidestep the latest bit of drama brewing in the little slice of hell I like to refer to as �work� (well at least that�s how I refer to it when the boss is listening.)

It appears that my coworker--the one who just got back from a week out of state, then took a week off for an intestinal virus, and who is planning to go out of the country for two weeks sometime later in May�yeah, THAT coworker--has just phoned in to say she won�t be in to work next week. I�m not sure why exactly as my boss either doesn�t know the whole story or isn�t spilling if she does know. But my answer to her question �What is your availability next week?� was �Nine to one, Monday through Friday.�

She seemed a little shocked that I didn�t want to work any more late afternoons, but I simply explained that my personal life has been suffering from working too many hours and that more than 20 hours a week is just too stressful. She had the class to be decent about it to my face (unlike one memorable former boss who threw a complete shit fit when I told her I needed to cut down my work hours at her restaurant so I could go to secretarial school) but I could tell she wasn�t too happy about it.

I, on the other hand, am ecstatic. It has now been stated FOR THE RECORD that I don�t ever plan to work late again. And if I ever do choose to help out in a pinch, it will be me doing them a favor. But let me tell ya, THAT won�t be happening any time soon.

My personal life really has been suffering from my lack of time and attention� I�ve been busting ass as much as humanly possible to get things clean and organized around here again and keep up with school and still try to have a few hours a week to relax. But on Saturday I had a spectacular meltdown over some errands that took much longer than I�d planned, (including a particularly infuriating half-hour wait at the art supply store while Bubble-Butt, the ding-a-ling store manager, did the elaborate cutting of the eighteen boards of the guy who was two seconds ahead of me (and who even SAID he didn�t mind if she did mine first) before she�d even consider making the two quick cuts I needed done.)

As each �quick� errand stop managed to turn itself into a lengthy, complicated pain in my ass, I began to grow angrier and angrier as I felt the minutes of my all-too-brief weekend ticking away at breakneck speed. Before I knew it, it was 7 o�clock in the evening and we still had to have dinner, go to the bookstore and go to CompUSA to buy a phone. And I�d wanted to be HOME by 8 p.m! So when I missed the turn into CompUSA and had to go clear around a huge block in heavy traffic, I pretty much lost it and began screaming and swearing while driving like a fucking maniac� and then I missed the turn AGAIN and by that time I was foaming at the mouth and ready to drive the fucking car into the nearest tree. I had dragged the poor Prince along on my errands for company thinking a little together time would be nice, but I�m pretty sure he found the driving-and-screaming episode anything but pleasant and relaxing. Thank goodness he�s a patient, easygoing sort� I�d have had me committed if I were him.

I�m also pretty sure it was this basic stressed-out mindset that led to my unfortunate accident with the Exacto knife late Sunday night as I struggled to complete the homework I�d hoped to have gotten done on Saturday.

But enough about work and my dubious state of mental health. Suffice it to say that while I�m pretty sure I�m going to have to work in billing next week, someone or no one is going to have to cover my regular job and it�s not going to be my problem�unless said problem can be handled between the hours of nine and one, Monday through Friday. The sweetest words in the English language! (Although, �May I freshen your drink and lick your clit for you, miss?� would be a pretty close runner up.)

On to answer the lovely BathTubMary�s question in my guestbook� why don�t I fart in front of my husband? Because I know other enquiring minds want to know too.

Well, my dear, it�s a little complicated, I think. Part of it is that, being a person with a sensitive nose, I really HATE it when people fart around me. I know it�s completely natural and nothing to be ashamed of and blah blah blah, but the smell just really grosses me out and it annoys me when other people subject me to it. (For some reason my own farts don�t smell that bad to me---not good, mind you, but they don�t bother me nearly as much as other peoples�.) So I don�t normally fart around other people out of courtesy and in the hope that they will extend the same courtesy in return.

And now to completely contradict myself� for some reason, I DID get really comfortable farting around Dick, my ex-husband. In fact, sometimes I would fart right ON him, just for fun. Which maybe a lot of married couples do, I suppose� but I guess for me, that was just one more sign that all the romance and mystery had gone out of the relationship. I didn�t care how he saw me any more, I didn�t bother to try to hide anything gross. For some people, that might be a sign of intimacy and trust, but for me it was a sign that I just didn�t fucking care about impressing him any more.

When I met the Prince I got back in that dating mindset of wanting him to always see me at my best, and even though a lot of that has fallen by the wayside, the idea of ripping off a smelly old fart in his presence whenever I feel the urge just feels like crossing that last boundary that separates �romantic lovers� from �old married folk.� And I don�t WANT to be old married folk� that�s one reason I got divorced from Dick.

Old habits die hard, though. Last time Dick was up here was when we were moving and he was dropping off a load of the Evil Childe�s stuff, and while he was here he helped us move our heavy furniture across the hall. At one point he walked behind me and I farted right at him without even thinking about it. (Yet I had enough presence of mind not to do it with the Prince in the room. So I guess maybe it was a Freudian sort of fart?)

So there you have it� more than you probably ever wanted to know about my fart-craziness! But now I�m tired of talking about my intestinal emissions and I�ve got a lot of stuff I want to accomplish today. So for now, I�m out!

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Previous - Next
Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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