I don't work for free!

So tomorrow is February 29th. Does everyone know what this is???? It's a leap year, meaning that every four years we get an extra day. So I started thinking about it at work, because lets face it, I would rather think about stuff like that than do some powerpoint presentation. So back to the point. As I was thinking, I realized that at work, my pay schedule is based on a 365 day year. Well....this year has 366 days. So do you know what that means???? My company and all companies out there that base their pay periods on a 365 day year are getting a free day of work our of their slaves. Well I'm not gonna have that, so I'm staying home tomorrow. I don't work for free, not me, no way, forget it. So maybe I told my boss I was going to take a PTO day, but also maybe, I forgot to put it into that kickass PTO database we are suppose to use, that just so happens to break and totally eff up all the time. Thus, I don't work for free and I'm not using my valuable, sanity inducing vacation time. Unless of course they ask, well then, I'll just say I forgot and will add it. This chick does not work for free. So take Friday off people, call in sick, do something, but no more will that corporate machine steal a day from me every 4 years. As I like to say, they can suck it.

Milk out your nose

I was giving my dogs some biscuits, when I heard a glurg, glurg, glurg sound. I looked up only to see a gallon of milk tipped ass up straight into my lovely husbands mouth. Now I know this goes on and maybe a time or two I've daintily done something almost similar. At that moment, we both made eye contact and the look of disgust on my face caused the gallon of milk to spontaneously combust over his face and hopefully up his nose and then all over the floor. Some things, you just don't want to see.

On the fulcrum of sickness

Maybe I'm a hypochondriac germaphobe. Could be. But let me tell you, I think I'm getting sick again. I admit that I probably do about 25 pumps of my hand sanitizer daily. I can't stop myself. And yes, I use a paper towel before touching a door handle. I see and I know those people who don't wash their hands in the bathroom and I don't want their poo germs on me, because you know what happens; poo germs on hands and then your eye itches, so you scratch your eye. Now guess what is in your eye? So after all that, I've been doing pretty good in the avoiding virus department. So I'm shocked that I have a sore throat and have the feeling of a small dwarf sitting on my chest. Where did I get these germs??? Urgh! Blast! Damn! So I've been sitting here double fisting Airborne and echinacea. So now I set here on the fulcrum of sickness. It's like a teeter totter, sick, not sick. As you can guess, I'm really pulling for the not sick. I think I'm going to start wearing a surgical mask so the virus that floats around the office from the hackers can't penetrate the fabric and infiltrate my fragile immune system.

I have to say though, it would be quite a conversation starter if I had a dwarf permanently sitting on my chest.

All things start with....a beginning

How do you start a new blog. Do you start with something profound? Like, I'm blogging to make a difference, to the save world, something important. Well, that's not how this is starting. I'm starting this blog because I sit in a cubicle, large and nice so I'm told, but a cubicle all the same. Day in and day out I sit in 3.5 walls of beige cubicle space just tall enough so that everyone can walk by and gawk at me (gawking is another post by the way). So I sit there 5 days a week and every second, every minute, every hour, I feel my creativity and essence seeping away. Corporate America is the sponge that is sucking up all that is me.

This a a blog is a place to renew my self and help get out all the things that well up inside of me during the day. I'm sure it will also help me man as well, as he's hoping my incessant bitching about so and so director, or stupid idiot manager, or anyone who happens to give me the stink eye even remotely, will cease and desist. Dream on baby. This girl was made for bitching. It's in my genes you know.