Crunch Time
Today was one of those days where you keep checking your shoes because you are fairly certain you stepped in something gross and/or smelly. My new job has been super stressful. I am a person who worries a lot, and if something gets missed at this new job, it can be pretty bad. So there's that. Plus the workload piles up toward the end of the day with priority tasks. So the newness of the job, the nature of the job and my own neurosis are doing me in.
On my lunch break at the local pizza joint I was confronted by another regular from the bookstore - scab guy. He is not the picket line-crossing kind of "scab" as far as I know. He rocks the Joey Buttafuco look. He has cornered me more than once with his "engaging" stories. He likes to point out the various scabs he has acquired. And he drops names- he apparently used to be friends with Bruce Willis. I was out of there before I had to hear anything more. Whew.
The real low point came at the end of the day when I mentioned to a coworker that it was "crunch time." I was pretty disgusted with myself and wanted to wring my own neck for betraying me. The term "crunch time" falls into a category of phrases and expressions which I loathe. What's next? Will I soon find myself making other icky statements? "That Nick Lachey is all that and a bag of chips." "No worries." "It's all good." "Let's think outside the box." I could go on and on. To be continued with this.
It all adds up to me being a real shrill bitch lately. I was even likened to Susie Essman's character from Curb Your Enthusiasm the other day, and that was coming from my dad. Yikes.
Coachella 2005: Won't be there. Have fun in my absence, Wilco and Weezer.
On my lunch break at the local pizza joint I was confronted by another regular from the bookstore - scab guy. He is not the picket line-crossing kind of "scab" as far as I know. He rocks the Joey Buttafuco look. He has cornered me more than once with his "engaging" stories. He likes to point out the various scabs he has acquired. And he drops names- he apparently used to be friends with Bruce Willis. I was out of there before I had to hear anything more. Whew.
The real low point came at the end of the day when I mentioned to a coworker that it was "crunch time." I was pretty disgusted with myself and wanted to wring my own neck for betraying me. The term "crunch time" falls into a category of phrases and expressions which I loathe. What's next? Will I soon find myself making other icky statements? "That Nick Lachey is all that and a bag of chips." "No worries." "It's all good." "Let's think outside the box." I could go on and on. To be continued with this.
It all adds up to me being a real shrill bitch lately. I was even likened to Susie Essman's character from Curb Your Enthusiasm the other day, and that was coming from my dad. Yikes.
Coachella 2005: Won't be there. Have fun in my absence, Wilco and Weezer.
Posted by stacie | Tuesday, April 12, 2005
3 comments
LARRY DAVID YOU SICK FOUR-EYED FUCK.
He he he. Yep, that pretty much sums it up.
You should just be happy your dad watches Curb Your. . . My dad watched golf and nascar. (this is where I get sad about never bonding with my father)
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