Thursday, Oct. 02, 2003 - 8:54 a.m.
Grettings,
So now it’s the second day of October and it’s cold enough outside so that my new white blouse with the thin grey and black pinstripes (and French cuffs) is not warm enough without a sweater. But I don’t have a sweater, so I guess I will avoid going outside for prolonged periods of time today.
That should be easy since I get to spend my lunch hour today interviewing for a job I did not get a month ago. There’s been some restructuring in the department and apparently the position is open again and yours truly has been invited to try again to land it.
Since potential New Boss invited me to interview and the job itself is not posted on our corporate jobnet, I feel relatively sure that if I don’t get it this time, I’m going to kick some major ass. You don’t do that to people. You just don’t. I’m hoping the interview is a mere formality and I can come back down here after “lunch” this afternoon glowing with the smug satisfaction of one who no longer has to endure the petty bickering, the malicious gossiping, and the endless throat clearing (OH, the throat clearing) surrounding me for very much longer.
We’ll see. I’ve got my magical fingers crossed.
There isn’t much throat clearing going on this morning, wonders upon wonders (that means that the throat clearing happens only once every 5 minutes or so instead of 5 times a minute). Instead, there’s this persistent, irritating *jingling* going on.
Can you take a wild guess as to whose cube said *jingling* is emanating from?
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
Yes, it is Fuckalie’s of course.
I have yet to steel myself enough to actually look at her, so I’m not sure what part of her body/clothing/accessories is actually jingling, but I’m willing to bet the asshole has got on some gay ass Halloween themed earrings.
She defiles the name of Halloween. May the ghouls of Samhain eat her alive this 31st. Sloooooowly. And her stupid Halloween themed earrings too.
It’s bad enough she jingles as she stomps, hippolike, up and down the hallways. But everytime she shifts her bulk in her chair, she also jingles. Ditto for when she stabs the keyboard with her hamhock fingers.
Oh, she is a vile, vile, “woman”.
In other news, I made Thomas actually fall on the floor laughing last night. He couldn’t get a box of Golden Grahams open and he summarily thrust the box at me and asked me to do it. So I did and apparently I said something like, “Well, I guess I can do it” or something like that, which he then mocked me by repeating back in this weird half assed hick accent.
So I casually inquired just when I had turned into Herman Hayseed.
And then he fell on the floor for several minutes.
He’s easily toppled, that one. ;)
I’m writing it and I’m not laughing, but trust me, it was funny last night in our dining room. Seriously.
After work yesterday I picked Thomas up on the Westblank and we zoomed over to Best Buy, World Market, Petco, and the Hallmark store in search of several things. Well, puppy pads mainly.
We scored the puppy pads at Petco and happened to get the very strange and demented Petco Man that always has a tale about a dead kitten. One time it licked paint. Last night it had had a malformed palate. Whatever, dude, it’s always about a dead kitten.
I like Petco, but the Petco Man is bizarre. He asks everyone he waits on if he talks too much. This is because he talks too much. He gives you a blow by blow description of the life and death of his kitten while you nod and get sad.
I fell for the paint-licking kitten, but I’m not so sure about the deformed palate kitten. I think the guy just likes to get sympathy and he likes to talk, so since he works at Petco, he makes up stories about dead kittens.
If he worked at the hardware store, for instance, he’d always have a horror story about how he had a friend who hurt or killed himself with a hammer or a staple gun.
If he worked at a grocery store, he’d be telling you choking stories or stories about how all the cans in his brother’s cupboard fell on his head and cracked his skull open just before his mother’s 80th birthday party and all the guests were in the dining room waiting for him to get the candles for the cake, when, BAM! That’s all she wrote.
I pretty much want to avoid the Petco Man next time I buy puppy pads. I bought the mecka mega mega size pack, so hopefully I won’t have to go back for a long while.
At the Hallmark store I managed to find HALLOWEEN THEMED PAPER PRODUCTS!
The plates and napkins feature a smirking Jack-o-Lantern on a black background.
Let the news be cried from rooftop to window, from street to sidewalk, from my town to your town!
AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I just forced myself to walk by Fatalie’s cube to see where that infernal *jingling* was coming from and I was right. It’s Halloween themed earrings. Black cat faces made from big jingle bells. Complete with whiskers and ears. But it gets worse. She has the matching jingle bell black cat NECKLACE to match.
I wonder if there’s a tacky jewelry store that only fat, over 40, ridiculously obnoxious women can find. Sort of like Diagon Alley for assholes.
Where things like huge pink Christmas tree bulbs suddenly look like something you’d wear on your ears in December.
Where the thought of putting bells ANYWHERE on your body sounds like a pretty swell idea.
By the way, she saw me checking out her cube and scowled at me, so I gave her my sweetest smile and walked on towards Maid Marion in the hallway where I ripped her earrings and necklace to shreds. She *might* have heard me.
Maid Marion rolled her eyes and said, “If I have to hear her say, “MAMA” one more time today, I’m going to kill myself.”
Well, I have some caftan night schedules to perfect and an interview to prepare for.
Until next time,
Olrun
