(sung to Clementine)
It is Friday once aga-ain, Oh my darlings, kiss a frog. :) (it rhymes, get over it)
Let us start with the least of my frustrations this week.
What the frack is this p.i.m.p.l.e that decided to pop up to the surface right by my left ear? Doesn't my body know by now that I answer the phone at work with that ear. I mean, the handset to the ear, don't get all, "she answers the phone with her ear, I must see this". I'm fifty four freaking years old, go away pimples!!!!!!
Speaking of phones
I know I've mentioned this before, but it has to be restated here. PEOPLE, PEOPLE, PEOPLE. For the love of money, PLEASE DO NOT CALL A BUSINESS and say these dreaded words said to phone answering people (I refuse to say receptionist or secretary)
Step by step conversation, for all you having a hard time following along.
Phone Answerer: XYZ Company
Person On Other End: I just missed a call from this number.
PA: That's nice, this is a business, it could be one of 20 people
POOE: Well, could you find out.
PA: Did they leave a message?
POOE: I don't know, I saw I missed a call
Sidebar: Are you so in need of friends that you call back every call that you miss. I myself WILL NOT call a number back, unless they leave a voicemail informing me who they are and what they want. Get over yourselves.
Oh, and then, I actually had this statement just Wednesday.
POOE: Who is this again?
Sidebar: WTH. Fracking LISTEN to the person that answers the phone. XYZ Company sounds a lot different than HELLO.
PA: XYZ Company
POOE: Hmmm, I have no idea who it could have been.
PA: Me either. Maybe you should check to see IF they left a VOICEMAIL and then give us a call back, mmmkay.
Last, but certainly not least
Yes you heard it right, it's getting the pickled finger of fate award this week too.
How is it that I can leave work, drive home, stop and get out of my car to pick up some frozen yogurt (yum), get back in my car, drive to our community mailboxes, get out of my car, get the mail, get back into my car, all without having a need to "go".
But the minute I grab my stuff out of the car, still feeling ok, make my way into the house, and then get that feeling of....
The Toilet, ever so softly calling my name. I try to ignore it, but my bladder says, yes, my darling, and then all of the sudden, I'm doing the insane potty dance, running to the bathroom and barely making it.
Huh, huh, tell me. How in the frack does your bladder know you are home? Get back to me on this one, ok.
Now on to the Shoes I will NEVER EVER WEAR, but love to pretend I have Tina Turner Legs and could actually wear them. Thanks again to A Daft Scots Lass for the honor of doing so.
Of course I'm showing you the purple ones last. Duh.
I have to say, IF, I could rock it, and not knock all my teeth out, I would get the animal prints ones. Rawr.