Ah, the nostalgia – people bitching at me for lack of updates. Yes, I’m looking at you, Liz.
However, it works, so hello! I had work to do last week! I bitch about having nothing to do, but once in a while my famine turns to feast and then I have to do a million clusterfucks in one day. On Friday I and two of my colleagues had to do a very onerous task, which made something possible for a ton of executives and it was boring yet anxiety producing and took forever, and then the head guy in charge, at the end, thanked everyone except his high school drama teacher and left us out. That kind of shit makes me so mad. I bitched to my boss about it this morning, and he is SUCH A POSITIVE AND CHEERFUL FUCKING SORT, I just can’t abide this guy, and anyway he was like all, “*I* appreciate you so much! *I* couldn’t have done this without, thank you so much.” And I’m like psshhhshshs I don’t care about YOU, you goddamned happy fucking bright-sider.
I mean, okay I didn’t say it, but I’m an asshole for thinking it. I guess. I don’t really care any more if I am an asshole, unless it’s to my kids or husband. And my husband would probably say that I’m an asshole to him quite frequently and so on the occasion of this Valentine’s Day, I want to announce that I regret every single time I’m an asshole to my husband. Put that on a card. “I regret that I am an asshole to you frequently.” *Opens card* “Happy Valentine’s Day I Guess.”
Wasn’t there some old school blogger who would do funny valentines every year? Was it Sundry? Oy, that hot mess. But I did like the valentines. She was a real waste of potential.
So here’s a question. Here’s a picture on the corner of my desk where I put my work knickknacks. My question is this. I need a picture of my other child, because I love them equally, but how do you get a 28-year-old man to get you a picture you can frame? I mean, sure, I could ask him, but I have a strong feeling, after knowing him these 28 years, that he will be all, “Mom.”
I have pictures of Elliot from his senior year and stuff, but that was 10 years ago and he looks significantly different now. I’m just going to ask him to take a fucking selfie and I’m going to frame it.
The pink thing is actually a bobble head that runs on solar power, and I have had it for SO LONG. I think I told the story of what it means and why I haul it around to all my jobs, so I won’t bore you with that, but I’m saying, I bought it for $2.98 at Target SEVENTEEN years ago. I broke it a little last year, who knows how, and it got fixed somehow, I want to say I fixed it myself, but I know I didn’t, so Tim must have glued it but I don’t remember that, just like I don’t remember the last two years very well. I was talking to Holly this weekend about how old our dogs are and she was looking at her instagram and she said (I can’t remember this exactly either, Jesus Christ) something like “We got Winston in 2012 so he’s 10” and I full on scoffed and said, “It’s 2020! He’s 8!”
If everyone else in the world hadn’t lost track of time in the last two, three whatever years, I’d be worried I was taking after my father.
Also, comment on this shit! Interact with me! Tell your friends! God, you guys aren’t living up to your end of the bargain either!