Note to self: 1 am is not an acceptable bedtime. This has been tested numerous times and the results do no vary: the next day is all blah. I’d rather be cranky then blah. Additionally, we’ve talked about this caffeine thing before. So, when you spilled a full can of Dr. Pepper all over the truck on the way to work this morning consider it your karma bitch slap.

How do I make myself forget every year that it’s like living under a broiler here? Every June I step out one day and am amazed that it can actually be this hot.  This day always reminds that I never planned to live here my whole life.

Am I a sucker? Today when I was accused twice of losing things I just took it. First of all, I don’t lose things. Second of all, a year ago this would have never happened. What has changed that I am suddenly the scapegoat for everything that occurs in this department? Is it because I have been here the longest and am the only one that knows anything? Am I actually being expected to have my fingers and watchful eyes all over every single project? Even after you try to tell me I’m “just a receptionist,” which was highly amusing, since see that girl over there? The one that answers the phone and does the filing and all of the other tasks with zero responsibility? She’s the receptionist you monkey. Why aren’t I fighting back? Why do I have so much hope?

Am I ever going to stop writing about my job?  Maybe once I admit that _____ ______ __ ___ ___ ________ ____ _ __________ deserve __ ____ _______ __ my attitude.  Secrets, aren’t they fabulous?  (I wouldn’t even try to decipher that if I were you.  I just wrote it and I can’t remember what it says.  Save your time.)

Names I’ve been called today:
Sharron, it’s my stupid accent when I answer the phone.
Kiddo.
Jenny, by two different boys who are pretty much the only ones that get away with that.
Jenn. There’s only one N you monkey.
Argaaaa – my niece who is oh so perky in the morning and helped me do my makeup. Sweetheart.
Jen Jen

Actually in an email I received today: “Monday June 5,2006 from 1:too-3:too pm.” Who writes times like that?  Twice? Idiots, that’s who.

I opened a fortune cookie yesterday that had been waiting for me since the last time I had  chinese food. It said “There is a gradual improvement.  Feelings are sweet and tender.”  There’s not a person in my life that I feel sweet and tender about. My love is all fierce and blinding and hardcore for you people. So, that would be interesting.

Before you think I’m some kind of believer in that crap, here is part of my horoscope for today: “Today’s aspect at play could encourage you to be argumentative, perhaps for the fun of it. This is not your usual style.”
Right… I’m certainly never argumentative… on Tuesdays between the hours of 3 and 4 am maybe.

Tatum had her one year check up today.  Doc said that she should be off the bottle and sleeping through the night.  Uh… dude?  Not quite.  He said that if she wakes up in the middle of the night that she should get only water.  So I’m expecting to reach Terror Level 6 (Duck and Cover) around these parts tonight when that baby gets offered water.

Edited to add:  I was right, we have one severely pissed off baby on our hands.  We also have her Mommy passed out on the couch because she has been hurling her brains out all day with some type of bug.  And finally, at 1 am we have me laughing my ass off, including the snort, due to the horrible timing of this:

I don’t know where I’d be if I couldn’t see the funny amidst all the suck.