Okay, so here's my Friday. And yes, it's 2:30 in the morning and I can't sleep, well there's a big surprise. O.K. on with it...So it's Friday and I start the day late to work, as usual, and my boss hates me, nothing new. Except today I have a doctor's appointment at 2 o'clock, all the way on the other side of town, but on the up side I get to cut work early. So, hey, the wrenching pain in my side from the probable kidney infection only partially dampens the day, after all I am finally going to get in to the doctor and get some awesome antibiotics and I will be feeling right as rain very soon. WRONG. And then it begins. First, I am late leaving work because this yahoo decides to yak in my ear for EVER about some accounts receivable issue that I can't fix until my boss gets in , and I can't get him off the phone. So I blast outa there and begin my long trek across town to the doctor hoping I won't be late now, having to pee the whole way per the kidney infection. I finally reach my destination and can't find the damn building despite TomTom's directions, that bastard...I'm changing the voice on that thing back to Billy Bob's Sling Blade voice, mmmhhhu. I called the receptionist and she informs me that being fifteen minutes late is not acceptable and the doctor won't be able to see me, "Would you like to re-schedule?" ARRRG. Fine, whatever. Re-schedule this biotch! Too harsh, fine then, moving on. So now I'm pissed, in pain, and did I say pissed? I go home and wait for my husband to get home from work...he'll cheer me up and we can spend a nice quiet evening together, after all, we haven't seen each other all week as he has been out of town. I couldn't be more hopeful. And when I walk in the house I realize the place is a t-total wreck, dishes to the ceiling, I forgot trash day so there was this mysterious odor floating throughout the house, and I had no energy to begin housework of any kind. Then my husband comes in, I'm still brooding about missing my doctor's appointment and my inability to keep the house clean, and he informs me that he's going out with his friends (I love you dear), and I'm invited this time (lucky me). Sianara to the quiet evening for two. That's it. I'm going to bed even if it is 5:30 in the afternoon. So I'm asleep, finally, my troubles melting away into my dreams for nearly five hours, hence the reason I can't sleep at 2 in the morning. My husband decides to call...wakes me up...and is bringing home a late dinner. Oh good, I can get up and we can eat and watch our Netflix movie and have time together after all. Except he brings home one of his friends, so now I have to wash my face, tie my hair back, put on a bra and some perfume to be halfway presentable (which I probably should do for the husband anyway, sorry babe I don't live in a Betty crocker magazine from the fifties), but I'll be damned if I'm changing out of my PJ's . Vain? Maybe, who cares, not me. I managed to at least pick up the bathroom so his friend could pee in peace. Life is so fun. There's more. That late dinner the hubby brought home was cold pizza with pineapple on it...I don't know if my husband knows this, I thought he did, but I don't like canned pineapple. Fresh pineapple is lovely, but there is just something about canned that I cannot agree with. I have a feeling his friend wanted canadian bacon and pineapple. It's okay honey, I still love you, very much. Shut up and check the pizza! So I eat the dang pizza anyway because I can eat anything even if I don't like it, that's some good raising right there, and suffered through it. To go along with the bad pizza, my husband's friend in our messy house, me sick in my PJ's in a raging foul mood, we watch the worst movie I have seen since Dragon Wars. Nick Cage's Bangkok Dangerous, I want that hour and a-half of my life back. Believe me when I tell you there is NOTHING, I mean nothing dangerous about this one. And I love movies, I have an appreciation for film and can tolerate almost anything, but come on! Anyway, so I think finally the day is over and I can go back to bed and forget the whole day in peace. As I lay in bed as my husband snores peacefully, I am wide awake. What a surprise. I go smoke. Pace the garage. I text a friend whose call I should have answered earlier, sorry dude! I was in the middle of this really exhilarating movie...huh. Pet the cat. What to do now... Checkthepizza it is, even though no one reads these anymore, but now it's out there and maybe, just maybe someone will come along one day and say, "Dang Jess, checkthepizza, my day was four hundred times worse than that!" OVER IT. I am over it. The end.Saturday, March 14, 2009
Canned Pineapple
Okay, so here's my Friday. And yes, it's 2:30 in the morning and I can't sleep, well there's a big surprise. O.K. on with it...So it's Friday and I start the day late to work, as usual, and my boss hates me, nothing new. Except today I have a doctor's appointment at 2 o'clock, all the way on the other side of town, but on the up side I get to cut work early. So, hey, the wrenching pain in my side from the probable kidney infection only partially dampens the day, after all I am finally going to get in to the doctor and get some awesome antibiotics and I will be feeling right as rain very soon. WRONG. And then it begins. First, I am late leaving work because this yahoo decides to yak in my ear for EVER about some accounts receivable issue that I can't fix until my boss gets in , and I can't get him off the phone. So I blast outa there and begin my long trek across town to the doctor hoping I won't be late now, having to pee the whole way per the kidney infection. I finally reach my destination and can't find the damn building despite TomTom's directions, that bastard...I'm changing the voice on that thing back to Billy Bob's Sling Blade voice, mmmhhhu. I called the receptionist and she informs me that being fifteen minutes late is not acceptable and the doctor won't be able to see me, "Would you like to re-schedule?" ARRRG. Fine, whatever. Re-schedule this biotch! Too harsh, fine then, moving on. So now I'm pissed, in pain, and did I say pissed? I go home and wait for my husband to get home from work...he'll cheer me up and we can spend a nice quiet evening together, after all, we haven't seen each other all week as he has been out of town. I couldn't be more hopeful. And when I walk in the house I realize the place is a t-total wreck, dishes to the ceiling, I forgot trash day so there was this mysterious odor floating throughout the house, and I had no energy to begin housework of any kind. Then my husband comes in, I'm still brooding about missing my doctor's appointment and my inability to keep the house clean, and he informs me that he's going out with his friends (I love you dear), and I'm invited this time (lucky me). Sianara to the quiet evening for two. That's it. I'm going to bed even if it is 5:30 in the afternoon. So I'm asleep, finally, my troubles melting away into my dreams for nearly five hours, hence the reason I can't sleep at 2 in the morning. My husband decides to call...wakes me up...and is bringing home a late dinner. Oh good, I can get up and we can eat and watch our Netflix movie and have time together after all. Except he brings home one of his friends, so now I have to wash my face, tie my hair back, put on a bra and some perfume to be halfway presentable (which I probably should do for the husband anyway, sorry babe I don't live in a Betty crocker magazine from the fifties), but I'll be damned if I'm changing out of my PJ's . Vain? Maybe, who cares, not me. I managed to at least pick up the bathroom so his friend could pee in peace. Life is so fun. There's more. That late dinner the hubby brought home was cold pizza with pineapple on it...I don't know if my husband knows this, I thought he did, but I don't like canned pineapple. Fresh pineapple is lovely, but there is just something about canned that I cannot agree with. I have a feeling his friend wanted canadian bacon and pineapple. It's okay honey, I still love you, very much. Shut up and check the pizza! So I eat the dang pizza anyway because I can eat anything even if I don't like it, that's some good raising right there, and suffered through it. To go along with the bad pizza, my husband's friend in our messy house, me sick in my PJ's in a raging foul mood, we watch the worst movie I have seen since Dragon Wars. Nick Cage's Bangkok Dangerous, I want that hour and a-half of my life back. Believe me when I tell you there is NOTHING, I mean nothing dangerous about this one. And I love movies, I have an appreciation for film and can tolerate almost anything, but come on! Anyway, so I think finally the day is over and I can go back to bed and forget the whole day in peace. As I lay in bed as my husband snores peacefully, I am wide awake. What a surprise. I go smoke. Pace the garage. I text a friend whose call I should have answered earlier, sorry dude! I was in the middle of this really exhilarating movie...huh. Pet the cat. What to do now... Checkthepizza it is, even though no one reads these anymore, but now it's out there and maybe, just maybe someone will come along one day and say, "Dang Jess, checkthepizza, my day was four hundred times worse than that!" OVER IT. I am over it. The end.
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2 comments:
Damn woman....it sounds like you had one hell of a day. But at least it's now the weekend and HOPEFULLY you will be able to have some fun and alone time with the hubby. I can't say that I've had that kind of day....of course, I'm not married, don't have a house of my own nor any kidney pains. Think I can relate with the gall bladder from years ago...but I digress.
I wish and pray that your weekend is a whole lot better and that you get to bitch slap that receptionist at the doctor's office!!
Signing off for now :D
I'm kinda up for the bitch slapping the receptionist thing!
Sorry you had a bad day. sometimes you have to look at those canned pineapples and see them as fresh pineapples - nevermind the fermenting juice and chemicals engulfing the pineapples - you HAVE to say - 'Mmm, I love me some of these fresh pineappers right here"
Now I know hwat you're thinking - I don't HAVE to do anything you ass. And your'e your'e right. So I have nothing else to say - but thank you for checking the pizza at CheckThePizza. Sometimes our pizzas (our lives) have pineapples (bitterness - metaphorically speaking) and canadian bacon (half-almost-but-not-really-good-enough-to-really-be-french dead carcass - literally speaking) And we have to just be thankful for the crust (the foundation of our piiza - literally - and our lives - metaphorically). I think you're foundation is wonderful and say sometimes you just goot fuck the toppings (not literally, although, pineapple slices do have that hole in the middl- nevermind - but that wouldn't really be good for you anyway - since you got no penis).
Life's a bitch - then you get scolded by one at the doctors office, and you go home, and it smells, and you die from the fumes ... flowers grow over and tickle your nose and go CRAZY! ...)
I'm done.
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