The Kind of Day I'm Having
New York has been transplanted to the surface of the sun. My overall appearance is that of a woman whose husband tried to kill her with a plugged in toaster while she bathed this morning, only to survive and commemorate this miracle of life by throwing on an ill-fitting black t-shirt, and baggy, transparent pants from the Gap Outlet. But hell, I deserved it, what with our finances spiraling out of control, and our kids on the run somewhere in Detroit. How a 7 year old knew how to crack the combination to the plastic Garfield safe tucked under our bed that I kept our family savings in I'll never figure out. Now, childless, and in an imaginary, loveless relationship, my husband and I barely utter a word to each other. I'm mostly pissed about the toaster: It was a wedding gift from my old boss. What am I supposed to do now, put my toaster struedels in the crack of my ass and hope they're warm by dinnertime?
To make matters worse, I'm not even married.
Delusions aside, here I am at work, looking worse for wear. Then, not 2 hours ago, while I sat idly in my secretarial throne watching the flies drop dead, my shoe fell in the garbage can. And of course, while retrieving it, a co-worker passes my taupe-colored environs just long enough to pause, look at my blistered, bare talon, and keep walking without ever making eye contact. Today is July 19, 2005, it's 12:54 in the p.m., and I'm feeling sad. As in Social Anxiety Disorder.
Now that that's out of the way, how are you?
A couple of other notes:
This picture made me laugh.
via Utter Wonder, a hysterical site, with particularly funny photos/captions.
It's just occurred to me that I've had so much coffee today, my heart has stopped beating.
This Thursday, I'm guesting again on The Derek and Romaine Show on Sirius Q 149 with Andy from Towelroad, whose site is NSFW unless you work in a gay bathhouse. (i.e. SFBM, or Safe for Bette Midler.) I'll be going on between 7 to 8. I promise I won't bring up flavored pantyliners this time (although that's what I said last time and look how that ended up -- and really, the above article is fascinating.) I've just tossed the pantyliners out of the window altogether and have begun using fruit roll-ups. Surprisingly absorbent!
Although pantyliners definitely make robbing banks easier.
To make matters worse, I'm not even married.
Delusions aside, here I am at work, looking worse for wear. Then, not 2 hours ago, while I sat idly in my secretarial throne watching the flies drop dead, my shoe fell in the garbage can. And of course, while retrieving it, a co-worker passes my taupe-colored environs just long enough to pause, look at my blistered, bare talon, and keep walking without ever making eye contact. Today is July 19, 2005, it's 12:54 in the p.m., and I'm feeling sad. As in Social Anxiety Disorder.
Now that that's out of the way, how are you?
A couple of other notes:
This picture made me laugh.
via Utter Wonder, a hysterical site, with particularly funny photos/captions.
It's just occurred to me that I've had so much coffee today, my heart has stopped beating.
This Thursday, I'm guesting again on The Derek and Romaine Show on Sirius Q 149 with Andy from Towelroad, whose site is NSFW unless you work in a gay bathhouse. (i.e. SFBM, or Safe for Bette Midler.) I'll be going on between 7 to 8. I promise I won't bring up flavored pantyliners this time (although that's what I said last time and look how that ended up -- and really, the above article is fascinating.) I've just tossed the pantyliners out of the window altogether and have begun using fruit roll-ups. Surprisingly absorbent!
Although pantyliners definitely make robbing banks easier.
posted by Michelle Collins on
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
