Breaking in the New Water Meter Reader.


So of course the water meter reader would show up while all my dogs were out in the yard. I ran out to try to get them back inside or at least stop lunging at the fence and snarling but I was slipping around the dog turd covered hellscape that is my yard in flip flops and sweat pants that are 5 sizes too big and look like those Turkish trousers with the drop crotch and my sad sacks sadly braless, swinging low and comin’ for to carry absolutely no one home except my dwindling dignity. Truly between the clothes and my hair pulled up on top of my head I had to look like a derrange sumo wrestler screaming, “DUDE! IT’S OVER BY THAT OTHER TREE!! NO THE OTHER, OTHER TREE. ” above cacophonous cries of my cantankerous critters. He was very kind and tried to cover the fact that the shocking sight of me looking like the dog shepherdess from hell complete with a grumpy pack of very vocal hellhounds had sent him scurrying in the complete opposite direction from the water meter by saying that he was new to this route and so very sorry to bother me, and he would eventually “get used to it”. Although I’m pretty sure he meant get used to the sight of a portly bog witch and her bad tempered familiars more than the placement of my water meter. He did eventually stumble upon the access but I’m not convinced he could get an accurate reading with all the fearful fumbles and am pretty sure next month’s bill is gonna be a whopper.

Today in the Chronicles of How Badly can Beth Fail as a Functioning Adult

I was sitting in an after lunch meeting all super sleepy and not paying attention as usual and just half heard (literally) the speaker say something about the contractors in the back of the room. Out of curiosity I turned around and there was no one there and still being sleepy and not very socially savvy I kind of interrupted the speaker and was like “ummm is there someone there other than those obvious to me?” And the guy just stopped and looked at me and was like, “what?” And I was like, “Exactly” and he goes “I said the contractors who HAD BEEN in the back of the room. They’ve left now.” So I went into full awkward I-don’t-know-how-to-get-out-of-this mode and just fake laughed and was like “ohh I thought I was having a stroke hahaha do I smell toast?” (supposedly people having a stroke sometimes think they smell toast) And the room fell silent and everyone just stared at me except for the old guy sitting next to me who waited a beat and then tried to laugh with me but it was pretty obvious it was just a pity laugh. Thankfully the speaker just started talking again like I hadn’t said anything. Still trying to figure out why they let me out alone.

FFS: My life at the moment

In the last two weeks my trusty old microwave finally met it’s maker, my dryer went wonky, one of my tires shuffled off its mortal coil, my prescription that I’ve been taking forever and was always completely covered by insurance suddenly costs $20 and the pharmacy said when they ran my insurance it said my coverage had ended. (it hasn’t and a phone call fixed it) and I finally got around to being a grown up and switching my Jeep insurance over to the same company as my house and was supposed to get a lovely refund for switching but my gooey tub fart of a mailman (that’s a story for another post) sent it back as undeliverable even though the agent read me the address on the envelope and both my name and address were correct. (Same guy that didn’t want to deliver my 40 lbs of dog food so put a note on my box saying it was too full to deliver that package of 40 POUNDS OF DOG FOOD THAT WOULD NOT FIT IN AN EMPTY BOX TO BEGIN WITH.)(( And there’s still more of his shenanigans for another post.)) I really REALLY want to feel sorry for myself but there’s a naggy little bitch of a voice in my head (that sounds a lot like my mother) reminding of all my shady behavior, especially the frequency with which I bellow profanity at other drivers and death stare people that get in my way at the grocery store or how I always, always, always give an extended honk and flash the bird or make throat slitting gestures at my siblings when pass them in town and past affinity for married men saying this might be karma and at least it’s not cancer and maybe I should just thank my lucky stars all of these things were easily fixable. Man that voice needs a good swift kick in the meat curtains. But all this shit does give me facebook fodder so yay for silver linings. Or something.

Conjugal Sandwiches and the Invasion of My Quiet Place

I eat breakfast every work day at the same time. Not out of any neurotic OCD obsessiveness, that’s just crazy, but from pure introvert obsessiveness which is totally sane and relatable.   At 10:15 every morning the snack bar is almost completely void of the scourge known as “other people” and there are plenty of quiet corners I can hide in and happily devour my grilled cheese sandwich like it was a dairy covered lover complete with soft but inappropriate noises of appreciation, ecstasy induced eye rolling, leg shaking and prolific licking of the fingers with cringe worthy slurping noises. It’s my scheduled 10 minutes of unadulterated joy every day and while it will probably land me with several sexual harassment complaints at some point for now it’s “my precious” and anyone that disturbs it instantly earns a place near the top of my wish list for when we finally institute the purge.  So imagine my face when I’m settling into my quiet corner in the huge and empty cafeteria for my daily dose of cheesy euphoria when this low down, no good, shit mitten, muff scratt, tub fart, warthog faced, Shrek looking bag of bitch had the nerve, the nerve I say to Sit.Across.From.Me!!! There’s a whole open goddamn dining room the size of Donald Trump’s giant floppy ass that’s emptier than a condom machine after seventh fleet shore leave but this puerile cunty big balls decides forcibly inserting himself into my quiet place during love sandwich mastication time at the very next table seems like a swell idea. AND THEN doesn’t even have the decency to turn his back to me but sits facing me like some sort of social decency deviant. Dude!!! I sat there stink eyeing him like a disdainful meerkat thinking I could silently make him uncomfortable enough to move but apparently not because as god as my witness THAT MOTHERFUCKER SMILED AT ME!!! What kind of psychopath does that??? And before one of you soft hearted snot rags @’s me with a, “maybe he was lonely” you can just stuff it. Let him get drunk and call 900 numbers and government officials like the rest of us instead of terrorizing attractive (sort of) young (vaguely) women during their daily conjugal cheese visit. For crying out loud there is not a bag of dicks big enough to even respond to that nonsense.

Stomach Bugs and F-bombs

I had a unpleasant stomach bug over the weekend and haven’t quite bounced back to my normal, sweet, sparkly unicorn self (< ha ha, sarcasm) and am crankier than Kardashians denied access to a camera crew and wealthy black men. It’s been really hard not to throw the eff word around like glitter at a strip club. I’m normally pretty good at pretending to be interested in what my coworkers are saying. It’s usually not that hard to say, “oh really? And what did she say to that?” and then follow up the appropriate uh-huh’s and sure’s when internally I’m thinking, “You are dumber than a box of hair and I wish I could kill you with fire.” But even that’s been tough today. The most I can muster is a dead stare that apparently says I want to eat your soul with grape jelly and biscuits judging by the way people have started to avoid speaking to me. I honestly don’t mean to be a soul sucking harpy. Usually I’m such an ADD riddled flake that everything is entertaining in some way but since my surprise colon cleanse I’ve just been a big ole pile of angst and loathing. A human grumpy cat that just wants to shout NO! at everyone and conspicuously close the elevator doors on people trying to catch it and openly pick my nose while other people are trying to eat. I’m sure it will go away in a day or two but until then y’all should probably avoid inviting me to dinner.

Frumpiness,Fabulousness and Looking Like a Drunk Dad in Drag

In an attempt to fight feeling frumpy I went shopping at one of those chain stores that seems to market to women much younger than me. Because nothing says not frumpy like stuffing yourself into Jr size clothing. Thankfully better sense prevailed (rare for me) and I just bought me a nice new belt. In my rat like fervor for all things shiny I got one with a giant cluster of rhinestones on it. Have been walking around all day basking in my own less frumpy fabulousness till I went to the bathroom and realized my lovely new belt had slid down under my muffin top and was making me look like I had an oddly high beer gut. Like someone’s middle aged dad in drag. Also, my shirt had bunched up under the belt on one side. So I guess it was like a drunken, middle aged dad in drag. That was bad enough but then I went and flopped back down in my office chair, sinking into a slouch because I no longer felt fabulous. While hunched over my dangly necklace caught on my belt. I went to reach for my drink and it suddenly let loose and popped up in my face and startled me into making an odd barking yelp noise. Then I got my skirt wrapped around the wheel of my chair and almost pulled it off when I stood up. My skirt, not the wheel. Thank goodness my coworkers are gone because many expletives were uttered. Many pirate ancestors were made very proud. Also, my giant gaudy belt keeps knocking against my desk every time I move. Thunk, thunk, scrape thunk…. all damn day long. Today is not a bueno day. Sniffle.

Reasons Why I’m Not Popular at Work and Also Why I’m Single.

Unfamiliar soldier (US): Hi Beth! I’m blah blah blah from Charlie Company blah blah blah and I own the students in blah blah blah and I just got here blah blah blah. (If I don’t have to deal with you on a regular basis and you don’t come bearing gifts I’m not going to bother to remember who you are or what you do. It’s not your fault, I’m just that lazy. And kind of an asshole.) I’m just going around getting a feel for the place and learning who everyone is…

Me: (interrupting) Oh you’re a good person then! I rarely leave my cube or care what everyone else does.

US: (Looks startled then laughs like I’m joking) Oh well it’s good to get to know the people you work with. So what do you do?

Me: (deer in headlights: wait, what do I do again? Dipshittery on Facebook isn’t my job! Say something!) ((Babbles incoherently about education and training development)) So feel free to stop by anytime. Especially if you have snacks.

US: Oh do you bring in snacks a lot?

Me: No, I meant you. You bring snacks.

US: (Looking increasingly uncomfortable) ((laughs nervously)) Oh, ha, yes. What kind of snacks do you prefer?

Me: Oh I’ll eat anything but cheese is always a good choice.

US: Ha, good to know. (Bolts like a rabbit)

And that boys and girls is how you use advanced social awkwardness to alienate coworkers and get a reputation as an addlepated nut monkey. You’re welcome!