I have to admit, I was thinking being laid off would be a lot cooler than it actually is. Despite the stress, part of me was looking forward to sitting around collecting unemployment. Especially since it’s likely to go on for some time. I live in a county that already had one of the highest unemployment rates in the country before 2 major companies shut down, causing another couple thousand people to lose their jobs.
It’s not like I just quit my job for no reason, or screwed up and got fired. But yet, I feel so… guilty. Even though I have had some sort of job pretty much continuously since I was 12. Yes, 12. That’s how they roll in West Virginia. People that are more emotionally healthy than I am would think finally having a semi-paid break after working for 23 years is a good thing. Not me. It’s like there’s this part of me that is determined to have something to worry about.
The first thing I did when I got up this morning was make a to do list. My list for today was half a page long. I mean, seriously – what is the matter with me? This is my first day off. Why can’t I just allow myself to sit around reading magazines or watching those stupid talk judge shows on TV?
It’s 5 hours after making my list and here I sit, ass glued to my computer chair, in my pajamas. I did manage to cross off picking up final paycheck from the stupid fuckers who laid me off but only because they decided to go ahead and direct deposit it. Information that would have been useful to me last Wednesday before I arrived at a pre-arranged appointment to pick up my final paycheck. Ugh, why does that dumb HR bitch still have a job and I didn’t even do anything wrong? *stomps feet*
Then in an effort to relieve yet another IBS flare-up I made some iced tea so I can drink that instead of soda. (I’m sure drinking less wine would help that too, but that’s not going to happen any time soon). Somehow, the lid to the only pitcher we have is missing.
How does this happen? I keep all the Tupperware stuff in the same place. And since we have 2.5 cupboards and one drawer in the kitchen, there are not that many places it could be. Still, I managed to spend half an hour looking for it, convinced that it was going to magically appear, and getting more and more pissed that it wasn’t.
I decided to take out my rage by throwing an empty candle jar into the garbage thinking it would make a satisfying clangy sound with the other empty candle jar in there, but without actually breaking anything. Only crazy people actually break stuff when they’re mad, right?
Well the joke was on me, because instead of a satisfying clangy sound, what I got was a bunch of garbage splashed up on my shirt. Do you know what we had in the garbage? Two moldy bananas, one non-moldy banana peel, three days worth of used coffee grounds, and the sponge we used to clean the cat puke off the sofa.
Did I jump in the shower you ask? No, I didn’t. I took my shirt off, washed my boobies in the kitchen sink with Dawn and put on a clean shirt. Nothing got on my pants, and it’s a good thing because they are my Christmas tree pajamas. In my defense, I don’t want to shower yet because I am still convinced I’m going to work out today…
There, now I can cross off write blog.
PS. I will bitchslap the first person who asks me why I didn’t melt out all the candle wax and recycle the glass jars.
Do people actually do that with the candle jar?
umm, yeah. they do here in tree hugging hippie land.
Guilty. All you have to do is put the candle holder in boiling water for a few seconds. I did that to reuse the jar, not recycle it though. I would not expect that of others. My question, however, is why are you not COMPOSTING your banana peels and coffee grounds?!?! Save the planet man
BTW: I’m glad you stayed in your jammies all day and skipped the shower. You should give up shaving for a while too.
She hates the planet. She’s happiest when an indian is crying.
Take it easy on the no-shaving talk.
Whitney: Because compost stinks, that’s why. And also because I’m lazy.
Darling Husband: Sigh. We are not allowed to say indian anymore. You didn’t even capitalize it for Pete’s sake!
I don’t HATE the planet, but I do like to say, “Take that Al Gore”, when I throw away reusable things.
Sorry. Redskin. Better?
God does not want you to shave, She does want you to compost, and She loves the Indians best
You call yourself a Christian!
Cathy does hate lots of things. I think that is why we like each other. I am always miserable.
Darling Husband: You know you can’t say that either. If little kids have to sit criss-cross-applesauce instead of Indian style, you totally cannot say Redskin.
Whitney: You are a hippie.
And I will tell God you are sorry the next time I see Him
Aimee: I DO hate many, many things. And bitching about stuff is an art form I’ve perfected over the years. You know me so well
Well, trash and whatnot aside, my question would be how did those two bananas possibly manage to get moldy without first getting into the freezer if they turned brown so that you can collect them and make a loaf of banana bread when you get just one more banana? I mean, you should be baking with those bananas! There are starving children in Africa yada yada…
Because banana bread is for people that can eat wheat
saying indian is okay……redskin…not so much.
See, the official word from someone who is Native American
LOL