Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 8:52 a.m.
Greetings,
I have started this journal entry off in my head about seven times now. It always starts with this sentence:
So I saw a flock of geese in a V formation fly over Crescentwood this morning.
And then I start to feel all cozy and warm and I can almost smell the fragrance of a pile of raked up leaves in the backyard on a windy Saturday afternoon. Until, that is, that fucking moose in the cubicle next to me starts clearing her throat.
Goddamn, why do I even bother?
The older I get the more intolerant I become of other people’s annoying habits and stupid personalities. The more jealous I become of my own personal space zone, a zone that grows bigger each year, spreading outwards in rings all labeled, “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, YOU MORONIC ASSHOLES!”
It doesn’t help that I have to work in a frickin’ cubicle. Or that I am surrounded by a vicious pack of dimwitted secretaries whose main ambition in life seems to be to live vicariously through their children or their pets or their church instead of actually realizing they might count for something on their own without the props.
Or maybe not in their case.
Asswipes.
I guess it is part of the dichotomy of New Orleans that I would love living here so much but hate my job so passionately. And it’s not the job itself, which is only boring, but the FUCKING PEOPLE I HAVE TO WORK WITH.
Yes, there are lots of upcapped words in today’s entry.
For one, I am on the rag again.
“On the rag again, can’t wait to get on the rag again, something something music with my friends, I can’t wait to get on the rag again!”
I really should sit down someday, get the real lyrics to that damn Willie Nelson “On the Road Again” song and then actually make up lyrics past the “On the rag again” part.
Speaking of the song, Fatalie was singing it this morning to her boss on the phone. Loudly. Very off key. It was disturbing. Seriously.
But I will try to think more about the positive things that have happened to me today.
Like the geese flying overhead and the light traffic I hit coming over the bridge. (Gods, my life is boring if I can count light traffic as a positive thing in my life.)
Oh, and the season premiere of “Friends” is on tonight and there’s a hard cider with my name on it waiting in the fridge. Well, it doesn’t actually have my name on it, but I am going to drink the damn thing. There’s even one for Tommy.
Another positive thing: I finished the extra indexing assigned to me. Hurray!
Another sort of positive thing: I am halfway down with my discovery binders. (You don’t need to know what discovery binders are to be happy for me. Trust me.)
Kristen will be town this weekend.
Oh, here’s an embarrassing thing. Mary Beth and I are wearing the same basic outfit today. Black pants and a lavender top. I, obviously, look better, but then I’ve got my cool open work crocheted sweater on.
One of the attorneys in the group is also wearing black pants and a purple top.
Oh, here’s a funny story about my wedding. I invited a woman that I thought at the time was a good friend and she turned out to have such insecurity issues that I no longer associate with her, but that’s another story. Our friendship to that point had been conducted via email and the phone since we lived many states away from each other and met through her husband.
Anyway, she shopped and shopped for just “the” dress to wear to my wedding. I had a rather dark wedding. (I wore a blood red gown and a black veil if that gives you any indication.) She wanted a dress that was black, gothy, and showed off her One Thousand And One Tattoos. (Another funny story, but again, I’m getting off track.)
She found just the right one and couldn’t gush enough about it to me via email and the phone before the wedding. I couldn’t wait to see it.
So finally it’s the night of the wedding and I’m in the hotel suite bedroom dressing. I hear her clomp into the living room area in her clunky goth boots and then there was some high pitched squealing talk and then …clump, clumpclump, clump…bam. The door closes. (Slams is more like it actually.)
“What’s going on?” I call, struggling with my voluminous skirts. Kristen comes to the door and says, “Uh, well, Andrea has to go change.”
“From the dress she loves so much? What happened? Did she spill something on it?”
“Uh, no. Apparently I’m wearing the exact same one.”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Hee, I’m in a better mood already thinking about the Great Dress Debacle.
Well, I guess it’s time to start the other half of the discovery binders.
Until next time,
Olrun
