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.