Beyond The Desk

I just had a mental break down at work, over the DUMBEST thing ever and I now need to talk about what the hell it is I do over here. I work for a non-profit career development center, helping people get their shit together and find work. My role in the whole deal is to meet with new clients, get their story, make them feel comfortable and really get to know them. I help construct their resume and introduce them to the company. Pretty much when they walk into this building the 2nd, 3rd, 527th time I need to know who the fuck they are and say "YO WHAT UP LONG TIME NO SEE HOWS THE JOB SEARCH, HOWS THE KIDS, HOWS GRANNY DOING, ANY BETTER?!?!!?" If I dont remember their face I get real sneaky asking questions until I figure it out. Most of the people coming in and out of here have just about had it with life and need someone to be awesome, supportive, and make them feel like they are the only person we are dealing with. At about 2:15pm I got a call from a returning client, who I know almost everything about,  and she wanted to let me know she was going to be able to make her appointment at 2:30pm but might be a little late. When she walked in at 2:45pm I had an absolute brain fart and made up a fake name for her in my head and truly believed it was her correct name. After realizing I had it all wrong I started belly laughing in her face and couldnt control it. I was in complete hysterics and there were co workers billowing out of their offices to see what the shit dick was happening in the front lobby. At this point I had tears streaming down my face, holding on to the now correctly named client, trying to explain myself. Usually Im the one with a smile on hiding my cold dead heart while they cry about their god awful lives, but this time it was me crying, laughing, and I havent checked yet but probably pooping my pants. I was a fucking mess.

Now that I am on the subject of work I would also like to put into words how much of a turd one of the bitches I work with is. She came out of god damn nowhere about 4 months in of me working here. I like red hair dont get me wrong, I sometimes use that shit in a box that smells like cat piss to color my hair a strange tint of red, but this douche has Mufasa hair. Big and stupid. She comes over to my desk about every 20 minutes asking me about certain clients and when the last time I talked to them was, its fucking annoying. When she isnt asking questions shes telling me about how romantic her 6'9" 140 pound boyfriend is, who I am sure she crushes to death in bed. Thinking about them makes me down right sick. Another thing about her that makes me want to rip my own stomach cavity out and feed it to some hungry bears is when she talks about her doing yoga. If she thinks for a second I believe shes doing yoga she is a fool. The thing really grinding my gears lately is how "sweet" and "thoughtful" shes PRETENDING to be. I can see right through her freckles and into the Cruella Deville like soul of hers. I just sit here waiting for the day a skinless puppy runs out of her office.

All this work talk has me not knowing how to act. I need a damn beer.

Get A Grip

How awesome is this? I experimented with some illegal drugs (the boogie shoogie) 3 times and now people assume I am an international drug dealer with a serious addiction. Well ladies and gents the truth is I dont have drugs to sell to you. I know where to get them, I know how to get them, I know how much it would cost me, and I know how much I would charge you. It aint going to happen though. We all know I am totally obsessed with having fun and I love my liquor, but unfortunately Im just not a chronic drug user. Sure I dabble but I see no harm in that. If you by crazy chance see me at a rave, I will probably be on ecstasy, get over it. I have been to 1 rave in the 24 years I have been alive, unless you count the party in my home town I went to that had loud music, wild lights, and booze....then ok I have been to 2. So chances of running into me trippin balls is highly unlikely. Another thing you wont ever find me doing is smoking the wacky tobacky, I dont smoke anything. I dont smoke tobacco, the wacky kind, crack, meth etc. I do not smoke. I dont mind stopping at the local 7-11 for you if you need a pack of butts, which go for about $8 - $9 and I wont charge you a penny more than what I spend. As for the shit you cant buy in the store, I have nothing to do with WOMP WOMP. I wont even bother getting into such things as heroin, youre an asshole if you think Im going to stab myself with anything full of poison.  

Im sorry if I let anybody down, I truely apologize to everyone that was banking on me being the girl who walks around like a zombie all fucked up on a home made cocktail of foreign chemicals. Its just I understand the importance of an honest living. I do like going to work every day and getting handed a pay check at the end of the week. I do promise however to continue drinking heavily between the hours of 8pm and 2am, dont worry your pretty little head.

Good day.

Another Year Another Problem

With each new year I seem to develop a new problem. The last few days of 2011 I decided enough is enough and I was going to break the cycle. Unlike most people who vow to lose weight and quit smoking I wanted to start small. I picked a few bad habits of mine that I need to work on and at the time thought I could for sure get a grip on. First things first I wanted to stop twirling my hair so much. I dont twirl my hair every now and then and have it go unnoticed, I literally have it between my fingers 24/7 going faster than the speed of light. I have been told it is the most obnoxious thing about me. Another more private matter of mine that I wanted to curb was how much I actually pick my nose. My fingers are inside my face for about 20% of the day and thats fucking disgusting. Can you please just picture the absolute horror that goes on while im driving? One hand zipping my hair around and the other jammed up to my wrist in my nose...how the fuck do you drive a car with no hands? YOU DONT. Im a danger to society. I think at one point I had told myself I was going to stop drinking on work nights but thats a pile of bullshit and I must of hit my head or something to have even considered that thought.

New Years was going to consist of  myself and a small group of people hanging out at a friends house and getting absolutely shitfaced in hopes of passing out before midnight so I didnt have to recognize the fact I was going to be standing alone looking fucking stupid while everyone was smooching someone. HOWEVER, like most of my plans, New Years didnt pan out in the same direction I had intended on. The night was real slow going to start and it almost seemed like it would be a total bust. Once the liquor started pouring though we became louder and more intoxicated and made the executive decision to spend midnight at the dive bar up the street....real swell. It was then immediately decided in my mind I was going to order an enormous amount of booze and walk out on the tab. There was no way in hell I wanted to remember yelling "happy new year" at broad street bar and grill for fucks sake. Everyone knew I was sauced out of my damn mind once I was walking around yapping about how "2012 is the year of the vag" and that I was swearing off dick and devoting myself to the ladies. Why when Im drunk I seriously think that a nose picking alcoholic is at all attractive to any sex is beyond me, Im doomed to be loveless, and thats probably for the better of mankind. Anyway midnight came and I got one planted on me by my girl Helen so that was lovely. A few short minutes after 12 I got a call from my cousin telling me to come home and that we were going to Foxwoods. Thats when the real trouble started.

I admit to foolishly getting in my car and racing home. Once back at the house I insisted on my roommate selling me $150 worth of cocaine and he kindly did. BOOM there it is my 2012 problem. Didnt I say I always come up with a new problem every year? I had dabbled a few times before but never had I purchased such a large amount solely for my own use.

Shit happens and I had been pounding that bag in my face every 15 minutes or so throughout the night. Now you tell me how Im supposed to not twirl my hair when I am completely geeked out and bouncing off walls? Not going to happen. New Years resolution number 1, already broken. I at one point forgot my "year of the vag" pledge and retracted to my old ways and got weird (as in sloppy kisses) with my black roommate who just recently broke up with his girlfriend. Thats not awkward as fuck now, "Oh hey black roommate just hopping in the shower! I know what your tongue tastes like and what your dick feels like through your jeans...see ya!" We left the casino a little before noon I think and the whole way home I was gripping my knees, knuckles white as snow, eyes bugging out of my head and my jaw clenched. After getting a nap in once home I woke up and broke resolution number 2. I had to. Its almost impossible to blow coke dusted boogz out of your nose. So I went balls to the walls and shoveled that shit out the best way I knew how.

Bring it on 2012. Bring it the fuck on.

I'm Back & More Fucked Up

Well I have to apologize to the millions of fans that I have kept hanging, and by millions I mean all 4 of my friends that actually read this bullshit. I wish I had more to tell you but to be totally honest I cant remember a fucking thing from 2011. I have been crazy busy trying to keep my job to fuel my alcoholism and now current drug obsession. Its absolutely amazing to me how brain dead I am. I'm even more amazed at the fact between the hours of 8:30am and 5:00pm I manage to trick people into thinking I'm like a normal person who has her shit together, JOKES ON THEM. Anyway to get this shit rolling I'll tell you a quick little story and call it a day.

Im really bad at timeline type of shit so dont quote me on this but a few months back (it could of been a few weeks i dont fucking know) I hurt my shoulder real damn bad. It happened during a blackout binge one weekend and I'm still suffering the consequences. After multiple shots of liquor to the face and a few rounds of prescription drug roulette I started feeling real sexy. Like Im talking "I know Im rocking this bun and sweatshirt" kind of sexy. Naturally it was time to go to a bar. About 13 Coors Lights later it was back to the house to party. I was having a real good time until everything caught up with me and made me feel a bit sick. I started getting that real sweaty mouth type of feeling where no matter how hard you breathe and as many times as you swallow there is a constant puddle of gross happening. On top of that it was absolutely necessary that I keep one eye closed and the other open. I needed fresh air ASAP. The stone wall outside running along the house was the most perfect spot for me to spend the rest of the night. After a solid couple of hours of sleep I rose with the sun. Still a little buzzed I picked myself up thinking I was on the ground and walked right off the wall slamming my face off the house and knocking myself out. There was a dude outside smoking a cig when all of this happened and he was able to wake me and help me up out of the hole dug out for basement windows. When I came to it was evident my arm was seriously fucked the fuck up. I wont lie I cried like a little bitch. I had to toss it in a sling and let it be because I had no health insurance at the time, MY BAD. Every now and then when I move my arm too quick it hurts like all hell and it will probz be like that forever and that sucks. What I learned from this experience? To never assume your feet are planted on the ground and always look around before taking that first step. 

This was a little entry to get me back into the swing of things and I promise promise promise to write more often. Tomorrow I will be going into extreme detail on how my New Years went and I'll tell you right now it wasnt pretty, not even a little bit.