Wednesday, September 12, 2007


If, in some alternate universe, I was offered the opportunity to be someone else and KNOW that I was, I might choose to be the person who wrote this, and then revel in the glory of my own sharp wit.

Cuz, y'all? That's some funny-a shizz, that is. I bow in deep respect to Heather, the queen of fug snark, a true creative genius if ever there was one.


This is post number 559. 559 is not a prime number.

Now you know.


I am done hating on my job now. Apparently alls I needed to do was get done with a project that's been looming over my head, get through most of the writing and review process for another project, and send a third thingamaproject off to review.

Now, I breathe. Whew!

This workly thing was so bad yesterday that I had to go around the hallways here asking people what it was I'd asked them to do, and from that information I then constructed a graphical representation of the workflow and timelines so that I could be sure I knew what was going on with my own projects. The selfsame projects that no less than three other people worked on yesterday on my behalf, and without whose help I would be swimming in a slimy hot pond of my own tears and snot after weeping hopelessly over my untenable work situation.

Because, really, when faced with a nearly unfathomably large workload, isn't the first rational response to just sit down and have a good weep over it?

My thoughts exactly.


Kind of people who make me think they need a lesson in civility, or at least a smack in the head:

People who cut in line
People who race down a merge lane to "get ahead"
People who don't return their grocery carts to the buggy roundup
People who purposely say hurtful things to children
People who lie for convenience
People who don't stop at crosswalks to let pedestrians perambulate

I could go on, but I won't. Instead, I'll ask you: What ticks you off so much about people that it makes you want to shake your fist at the sky and question God about why he allows this kind of thing to go on, and where the heck is the SMITING for Pete's sake? Really, one tiny lightning bolt to the front bumper of those traffic jam jockeys could teach a powerful lesson! Is that too much to ask?

Use the comments to invoke some bloggy wrathmaking of your own, and let the smiting begin!


Oh, and have a nice day.

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