12:21 p.m. - 2005-09-16
I realize I haven't posted anything here in a good long while, but today is Highly Caffeinated Friday so there's a decent chance that I will actually get this entry up and running today.
IN THE AFTERLIFE
A coworker reminded me today that it's okay not to like everyone. She herself was experiencing some angst over disliking a particular member of our team, who apparently left the womb doing The Job. Or at least, wanting to do The Job. With an "Anything you can do, I can do better / I can do anything better than you!" attitude. Whereas my friendly coworker and I are just kinda futzing around at this place, waiting for something better or different to drop into our laps. Or to become independently wealthy. Or to be paid handsomely for all the fabulous sex we be havin' or for the rich, decadent foods we be eatin'.*
Anyway. Where was I? Oh, yes. It's perfectly fine not to like someone. But why is it that I always struggle with the not liking, especially when the person hasn't really done anything wrong. (Yes, why is that, Lis'?) Other than merely existing. (Oh, that's why.) It's not like the intense loathing I have for one of the mid-level bosses (not mine) here at work. Toddy is a squint and a 'tard who totally ratted me out for not having a parking tag, but only because I crept into a spot just moments ahead of him. Squint.
Whatever. So these folks I don't like — for some reason, even though I don't like them, they absolutely Must Like Me. Really, it's almost pathological. I've always envied folks who could straight up tell people "Hm. I really don't like you." But, the only times I've ever tried to do something similar, it's ended quite badly, in eye-twitchy and anxiety-med-needy sorts of ways. So I don't do that anymore.
COMING SOON, FINALLY FOOTNOTES!, & THE BEGINNINGS OF AN OED TANGENT
Edward Gorey and Richard Scarry should totally collaborate if they haven't already. I'm sure I'm not the first person to think so. That would be one fucked up children's book.***
*Note: Neither of us be havin' or eatin' as much sex and decadent food as we be wantin'. Ain't that the troof?**
**(Aside to a note): How quaint and altogether delightful that Microscoff Word does not recognize ain't as a word!
***Well, crap. Upon saying this very thing to Joey, I received the following:
joey : aren't they both dead?
I still think it would work. Maybe it would even be better than if they both were alive. I'll have to google them both later to check their vital stats.
OH-HOA, GOOGLE ME, BABY!
I love this verb, to google. Why the fuck has it not made it into The OED (subscription required) when so many others (e.g., baby-daddy, baby-momma) have? If you're as concerned about inclusion of the verb to google in its most recent, non-cricket sense, you might want to check out this page (subscription not required).
PUNCTUATION SHENANIGANS
"NO! WRONG! TOTALLY WRONG! WHERE'D YOU LEARN THIS? STOP DOING IT!" Heh. Print it out. Colour it up nice and pretty. Make Bob's eyes bloodshot. Post your artwork at your desk for all the world to see. You, too, can be accused of creating a hostile work environment for your punctuation-challenged colleagues. Heh.
"KICK HIM IN THE 'NADS" This one's not so very funny 'til you get to the end.
HIGHLY CAFFEINATED FRIDAY continues. Thus far, I've racked up the following points :
*Midol, 2 tablets at 7:52 a.m. 64.8mg
*diet Coke, flat warm 8 oz. at 8:24 a.m., 45 mg
*coffee, dripped not percolated, at 8:50 a.m.,, 115 mg
*Earl Grey, 2 cups at 9: 27am. and 9:45 a.m., 140 mg
*diet Pepsi, 12 oz from the deli-teria at 11:42 a.m., 54 mg
*Grand total — Oh, who cares? I'm buzzing harder than a double C-cell vibe, which (if one were to have one of these) one might nickname His Honourable Lordship, the Duke of Pointsvania (as the smaller, single AA-cell vibe already has the Mr. Pointy birth certificate and passport).
Okay, okay — so at least I'm not quite this bad.
NEGATING THE PREVIOUS STATEMENT, RE: HOW BAD I AM
And now it's time for a jittery nap. "Whoa, Summers — you [sleep] like a spazz!"
