Showing posts with label I'd Rather Be Napping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I'd Rather Be Napping. Show all posts

2.15.2009

Valentine's Aftermath

naps

I now know it is possible to spend an entire day unconscious.

Plan Drink Face Off went off without a hitch. Some friends and I headed to a hip kids bar downtown. It was a blast. I drank, I danced, I shit talked and I laughed a ridiculous amount. It was like the perfect storm of awesome. Someone get George Clooney on the phone, I have a sequel idea to pitch.

The result of having such a fun night is waking up feeling like someone punched my head and dumped a trash can in my mouth. I stumbled into the house this morning at 8 a.m. and proceeded to take off my pants and immediately fall asleep for THE ENTIRE DAY.

Well, that's not technically true. I woke up long enough to do two things:

Eat tacos,
tacos

and watch zombie movies.
dead

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to turn in for the night. At 7:37. Score.

1.14.2009

Wednesday Boycott

I'm in a mood today. A terrible, face melting, punch in the head inducing mood. I went to bed tense last night and woke up with my entire body rebelling. The area between my shoulders and the small of my back insist on spasming every five minutes. Hey, guess what back of the body area-- I didn't forget that you existed. So chill the fuck out with all this spasming business and let me be. Live and let live, right?

Aside from feeling like someone sat on me all night, I'm trying to cheer myself up. It's not really working. I think it's cause I don't really want to be cheered up. I want to be angry today because I'm just that filled with rage. Karina angry, Karina smash!

So, in the spirit of being a bitch, I am officially saying that today can eat it. That's right, I declare this entire Wednesday a complete and total waste of time and effort. Eff Wednesday, in other words.

Tuesdays? I'll take it.

Thursdays? Hell yeah.

Wednesdays? Wednesdays need to roll themselves in a carpet, walk itself out to the nearest dumpster, pour a bowl of day old lo-mein on top of itself and wait to be taken to a landfill where it truly belongs. Better yet, Wednesdays can stroll on down to Uncle Tony's Footlocker, invest in a pair of nice, comfy cement shoes, walk itself down the most remote fishing harbor, take a leap in and get to know a couple of great whites. Mafia deaths are only fitting for snake in the grass Wednesdays. You think you can rely on this unassuming day of the week? You are mistaken. Wednesday is the day your car will run out of gas. It's the day you'll realize you owe money all over town. Hell, Wednesdays will sleep with your wife if you let them. They're the biggest dick of all the weekdays, besting even that dingleberry wiener Monday.

Worst of all, Wednesday blog posts are totally irrelevant.

"I thought I was coming here to read about something entertaining," you thought.

Well, guess what? It's Wednesday, and Wednesdays are assholes.

12.23.2008

Year Round Dickery

It's been a rough morning. It all started at 2 a.m. I slept on the couch last night because I was alone. My family is in New Mexico for Christmas and when they're not home, the house feels too big. The couch seemed like the only welcoming place. My dog spent half an hour barking at the front door, something both irritating and kind of creepy. I woke up when my alarm went off with a crick in my neck and a dog on my back.

Then, in a rush to find an umbrella and make it into work without being late, I locked myself out of the house. And since I am a certified genius (I won a grant and everything) and keep my house and car keys on the same keychain, I realized that I was a.) royally fucked and b.) locked out of the house...in the rain...without an umbrella...with a mean case of the frizzies. Someone cue the violins.

After a knight in shining armor showed up in The Black Egg (thanks again, Marcos!), it was off to work where things were a little hectic. Nothing I haven't handled before, but I couldn't shake off the crappy bits of the morning and I felt kind of bleh in general.

By 10:30 or so, things were looking up. Work had quieted down and I was starting to unwind. Then a guy came in. He was scruffy looking with a red beard and fogged glasses. He was tense and annoyed the second he came through the door.

"I need a permit," Red Beard grunted. His voice was gruff and he slapped down an envelope on the desk. He's not here to fuck around. I understand that, nobody wants to waste time doing unpleasant errands. But if you needed a permit by the end of the year, maybe coming in December Motherfucking 23rd wasn't the best idea.

Of course, because the Universe has a sense of humor, we don't have the permit he needs. In fact, he's at the wrong place entirely. The only place he can get the type of permit he needs is in Phoenix. Great. I let Red Beard in on the bad news.

"You people keep giving me the run around!" he bellowed. "I'm not going to Phoenix when you should have what I need here." I've dealt with assholes before, this guy should be no different.

"I'm sorry sir," I said. "We don't issue those permits here because that piece of land isn't part of our property. I can give you the Phoenix number if you'd like."

"I'd like to tell you where you can take this whole damn state," he said. Deep breaths, I tell myself. I smiled him, trying my best to remain courteous.

"You're ridiculous," Red Beard growled at me. He picked up his envelope and stormed out.

Fucking prick, I think. A guy from down the hall, who heard the whole exchange, walked up to me.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We didn't have what he was looking for," I said. I could feel my face start to get red and tears began to well up. It wasn't just Red Beard. Everything shitty about the past few days and the morning that preceded it had finally caught up to me. Being alone in a house that's too big, trying to accomplish goals that seem unattainable, feeling grossly inadequate about everything in my life. Everything I'd been successfully avoiding for the past couple weeks found me the second Red Beard walked out the door and took my confidence with him.

"Hey," the guy from down the hall said. "If someone is ever acting like that, my office is only a few doors down."

"Yeah, I've dealt with people like that before," I say. Christ, I can't believe I'm about to cry at work. "It just takes me a minute to process it. I mean, it's Christmas, the time of year people are supposed to be on their best behavior."

"Don't worry about it," the guy says with a shrug. "Some people are dicks year round."

I laugh. Can't argue with that.

Also, I think this may be the last post before Christmas. I'm leaving Thursday to New Mexico to join the rest of the familia, so I'll be on Christmas Vacation* until sometime next week.

Happy Christmas, all.


*Sans Chevy Chase, of course.