Saturday Sept 25th 2010

I focused so hard on what I WANTED that I lost sight of what I DESERVED =(

I’am I CORNY or NOT??

I’d really like to know when my box of .25 cent Kraft Dinner turned into $1.75 a box. I mean, come on! Give me a break! It’s not exactly a gourmet food. It’s a handful of macaroni noodles with glow in the dark cheese. Of course, people like me who have been eating it since college will still buy it. Why? It’s not just because we are stupid fart-wads. It’s because we’re addicted to it. It’s like somebody put effin’ cocaine in the cheese.

Jeeze, will my freakin’ arm pain never end? I ended up at the bottom of my bed curled up into a ball. How the hell did I get there? Of course I hurt my arm even worse and my neck feels like a McDonald’s junkie backed over it.

My boss joked about me sleepwalking, but now I’m starting to wonder. I better not wake up outside, naked. Ha-ha! I might have to go to a sleep disorder clinic. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Not. There’s nothing more soothing than being hooked up to a bunch of wires and listening to the attendant talk on the phone all night about what a cushy job he has. Yeah, that should really relax me.

I’m getting a new doctor and I’m going to meet him tomorrow. The poor sucker doesn’t know what he’s in for. My last doctor I had him for years and just got him used to me, damn it. Now I have to start all over again. I need more pain medication and he better give it to me or I might end up hurting somebody. Seriously, the pain is that bad. I didn’t go into work today because I couldn’t handle the throbbing agony. The MRI is next week and they better fix it or I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Makes you wonder what they teach our kids at school eh ?? lol

Wednesday Sept 1st 2010

how many opportunities do we miss because we are afraid to take a risk?

Can shitty days get even shittier? Yes they can. It’s Marya In Black.

After a horrible day with everything going wrong I stood in a long line-up at the post office. The room smothered me with a mixture of muggy air and heat.

I slowly plodded toward the counter. The lady in front of me took forever getting her mail together. She reminded me of a little only lady tallying up her pennies at a bank. The girl working at the counter wasn’t any swifter. She worked slower than a two ton snale.

I felt so tired. I endured it though. I’m trying to get things sorted so that I can sell merchandise on E-bay to raise money for my Uncles, Danny’s liver transplant.

Twenty-five minutes later I finally got to the front of the line.

“I’d like to open up a P.O. box please,” I requested.

The girl looked at me and uttered, “what’s a P.O. box?”

I don’t think the look I had on my face could ever be repeated again in the history of all mankind.

“You work in a post office and you don’t know what a post office box is?” I sneered.

“You just put the address that’s on your house,” she suggested.

“That’s not what a P.O. box is,” I snapped. I couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”

“I can get a manager,” she replied.

I stormed out of the place. I had to get back to work and didn’t have time for this stupid crap. Seriously, do I need to run into all the idiots on the planet?

To say I feel frustrated would be an understatement.

I know what’s going on. I’m stuck in a Men In Black series and all the postal employees are really aliens.

It’s a good thing I don’t have one of those flashing do-hickies. I’d be flashing the shit outta people. Face SLAP – FLASH – You know what a P.O. box is. Have a nice day.