Never Wake Up
Jerking awake to escape the ostrich that kept attacking me while I picked Jelly Belly beans in a poppy field, I realized that my alarm failed to go off due to a power outage or something during the night. Leaping out of bed, I threw on clothes, red lipstick, heels and was out the door. As I ran to my car, I got really pissed off because I could see my breath. For the first time in months, there it was. My breath. Right in front of me. It sucked. I don't want summer to go away. I love the summer. Argh.
But you wanna know what really sucked? I found out when I opened my car door. The lovely stench of puke wafted, rather, overwhelmed me. Turns out that last night, in my concern for my puke-covered daughter, I had forgotten to come back outside to clean up the mess on her carseat.
Lacking time to do anything about it, I left for Larry's Market where I was to pick up the birthday goodies for a co-worker (yet another fun task that falls to the last one in line). I raced around the store getting the necessary foodstuffs, then back at my car realized the clerk had not given me my change. Loading my truck, I struggled with the overstuffed plastic bags of 2 liter soda bottles, as I tried to prevent the cart from slipping away with my heel-clad foot. The really fun part came when I grabbed the huge and ultra-heavy cake. Packaged in an awkward box, and somewhat off balance, the cake dropped from my hands right as the cart freed itself from my foot. With one eye on the crashing cake and the other on the cart's Jaguar-bound descent, I decided to forget the cake and lunged, instead, for the cart, which was lucky because a very prissy woman sat inside eyeing me over her black-rimmed glasses. Breathing a sigh of relief, I tossed the rumpled cake on the front seat, ran the cart back inside and drove to work completely forgetting to ask that clerk for my change.
Hauling everything into the office was exciting, especially when the door was locked and I had to juggle the heavy bags while digging through my purse for the keys, all while one of our researchers stood on the other side of the door making faces at me. Ooh, if we weren't already short on PhDs...
But the coup de grace came when I made the birthday boy's card on our ultra-handy greeting card software. Aren't we cheap? It wasn't until several people had signed the card, that one of them came up to me, "Uh, Roxy...Who is Mr. Slick?
"Why do you ask?"
"Because the card is printed, 'Happy Birthday, Mr. Slick'."
Reprinting a new card with the correct name and explaining to the already signed-its why they had to do it again was a real cheek burner.
Ever since, my day has just been one of those that make you wish that you never woke up from your ostrich nightmare.
Thank God it's Friday, that's all I can say.
But you wanna know what really sucked? I found out when I opened my car door. The lovely stench of puke wafted, rather, overwhelmed me. Turns out that last night, in my concern for my puke-covered daughter, I had forgotten to come back outside to clean up the mess on her carseat.
Lacking time to do anything about it, I left for Larry's Market where I was to pick up the birthday goodies for a co-worker (yet another fun task that falls to the last one in line). I raced around the store getting the necessary foodstuffs, then back at my car realized the clerk had not given me my change. Loading my truck, I struggled with the overstuffed plastic bags of 2 liter soda bottles, as I tried to prevent the cart from slipping away with my heel-clad foot. The really fun part came when I grabbed the huge and ultra-heavy cake. Packaged in an awkward box, and somewhat off balance, the cake dropped from my hands right as the cart freed itself from my foot. With one eye on the crashing cake and the other on the cart's Jaguar-bound descent, I decided to forget the cake and lunged, instead, for the cart, which was lucky because a very prissy woman sat inside eyeing me over her black-rimmed glasses. Breathing a sigh of relief, I tossed the rumpled cake on the front seat, ran the cart back inside and drove to work completely forgetting to ask that clerk for my change.
Hauling everything into the office was exciting, especially when the door was locked and I had to juggle the heavy bags while digging through my purse for the keys, all while one of our researchers stood on the other side of the door making faces at me. Ooh, if we weren't already short on PhDs...
But the coup de grace came when I made the birthday boy's card on our ultra-handy greeting card software. Aren't we cheap? It wasn't until several people had signed the card, that one of them came up to me, "Uh, Roxy...Who is Mr. Slick?
"Why do you ask?"
"Because the card is printed, 'Happy Birthday, Mr. Slick'."
Reprinting a new card with the correct name and explaining to the already signed-its why they had to do it again was a real cheek burner.
Ever since, my day has just been one of those that make you wish that you never woke up from your ostrich nightmare.
Thank God it's Friday, that's all I can say.
posted by The Narcissist at 11:15 AM
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