yesterday, i was that kid.

Seven years. That's how long I've worked in this bloody office. Seven years, 5 days a week, 260 work days a year, that's about 1820 days of sitting my cushy ass in a rolly chair multiple times a day.

Successfully.

And then, when I have a mere 9 days left on my time card here, THAT is when I miss the fucking rolling chair and fall flat on my ass knocking a pile of nice, neat, alphabitized and collated papers right on top of my retarded noggin and whacking the back of my head on said runaway rolly chair.  Fuck you chair. That was just mean. I know I crush you daily with my body, but what about all those times we've spun in lazy circles together while I think until I feel like I'm going to puke? Or the moments when we're on the phone and a rock/bounce you? Now, after a almost 2000 days together you do me dirty? Bastard.

To answer your question, yes I'm fine. Oh wait, that wasn't your question was it? That was just the sound of your gasping for breath while you laugh at my desmise. It's cool. You'll get yours.

I was also that kid who you saw slamming on their breaks, veering to the side of the road and jumping out of her car with the mildly screaming heebie jeebies yesterday because a big ol' creepy clear/white spider went scampering across my windshield ON THE INSIDE. *gag* Not cool car. We're supposed to keep the buggers out side or smashed on the grill.

Needless to say, yesterday was more than eventful. And a strange follow up to my super dee duper awesome birthday on Tuesday. It was grand. So grand I didn't go to bed until after midnight and had to be at work at 6:30. Roooooouuugh morning to say the least. And then I get attacked my office furniture AND arachnids?

Thank god there is wine in my fridge.