Telling It All About Being Mad

And I *am* mad.

I'm sick.   The reason I am sick is because my co-worker and her son surround my desk hacking and sneezing and spreading their germs.   I do not know why son comes in here every week, anyway.   He's a college kid and instead of mingling with other college kids, he comes and hangs out with mommie until he has to go to class.  (The first week of classes, she WALKED him to his classes!!  YES, she did!  COLLEGE!!!!)  I might mention he refuses to learn how to drive, so co-worker must "tote" him to and from school.   Yep.   She leaves and picks him up for class, or leaves to take him home.   Sometimes, she has to leave two or three times.   

And while I'm on a sin-rant, I may as well say that son comes in here, and no matter what she's doing, he expects her to drop it immediately and take him home.   Seriously.   And she does it.

I'm just really mad about the whole thing.   I'm getting ready to go on vacation, and now I'll be on vacation sick.   I've told her twice that sitting right freakin' behind me is NOT the place for him to be.   He should be in HER corner, not in my way.    

Mad, mad, mad!   Do I feel better???  Not yet.   But at least now, when she gets in here, I may not go off on her.

Plus, I'll have to repent later.

Tell It All About Game Playing in Six Words....

Update on 09/16/14
My winning streak is now over 1000.

Telling It All About Cussing Children, in Six Words!

Yeah, your little one cusses, too.

My daughter, Elle, lives in an apartment complex where lots of children live.   Earlier this week, she was “cussed out” by a two year old.   Elle is one of the funniest people I know, so, yesterday at lunch she was cracking me up doing the accent of this little boy.   (I’m from the deep south, so we know a thing or two about accents.   Down here, we all got an accent.)   The story is funny, until you really think about it.

One day last week, it was looking stormy outside, and a couple of two year olds were out playing alone.   (Yes, you read that right…two years old.   Our small Alabama town may be safer than some big city areas, but I would never, I repeat NEVER, leave my little ones out to play alone.)    Elle told them (a boy and a girl) that they needed to go home because it was about to storm.   The little boy, Devonte, who has a full vocabulary at 2, told her “No!” and proceeded to get into a car.   (It’s August, and temps are near or over 100° every day.)   The little girl got in, too.   Elle noticed there were keys in the car…but that's beside the hot-weather point.

Elle told them both to get out of the car NOW.   Devonte tried to push her away so he could close the door.   Elle told him he absolutely couldn’t play in the car.   He kept telling her to “Moo!  Moo!”  meaning, of course, “move!”   He said, “You moo!  Dis my mama cah (car), you moo!”    The little girl started to get out of the car, but Devonte wouldn’t budge.  Elle took him by the arm and pulled him out.   He stood there, put his hands on his little hips, reared back and said, “You ugh-ly!”  Elle said, “And mean, too!   You need to go on home.”  

Devonte said, “Booty azz!” and stomped off.   Elle said, “What did you say?!”   He stopped at his door, turned around and said, “You heard me!” went in, and slammed the door behind him.

The next day, Elle ran into to his mother.    She told her what happened, and the mom, who is another fat chick, ran off after the little boy, yelling, “Devonte!  You been cussin’ folks again?  Imo beat yo azz!”   

For more Six Word Saturday entries (though, of course, mine is much more than six words) visit http://www.showmyface.com/!

Telling it all about how juvenile I am...

Oh yes, I'm such a child.  I find bathroom humor funny.

WAL-MART INTERVIEW

Jennifer a manager at Wal-Mart had the task of hiring someone to fill a job opening. After sorting through a stack of 20 resumes she found four people who were equally qualified.  Jennifer decided to call the four in and ask them only one question.  Their answer would determine which of them would get the job.

The day came and as the four sat around the conference room table, Jennifer asked, 'What is the fastest thing you know of?'

 

The first man replied, 'A THOUGHT.' It just pops into your head. There's no warning.

 

'That's very good!' replied Jennifer. 'And, now you sir?', she asked the second man.

 

'Hmmm… let me see 'A blink! It comes and goes and you don't know that it ever happened... A BLINK is the fastest thing I know of.'

 

'Excellent!' said Jennifer. 'The blink of an eye, that's a very popular cliché for speed.' She then turned to the third man, who was contemplating his reply.

 

Well, out at my dad's ranch, you step out of the house and on the wall there's a light switch. When you flip that switch, way out across the pasture the light on the barn comes on in less than an instant. 'Yip, TURNING ON A LIGHT is the fastest thing I can think of.'

 

Jennifer was very impressed with the third answer and thought she had found her man 'It's hard to beat the speed of light,' she said.

 

Turning to Louie, the fourth and final man, Jennifer posed the same question.

 

Old Louie replied, 'After hearing the previous three answers, it's obvious to me that the fastest thing known is DIARRHEA.'

 

'WHAT!?' said Jennifer, stunned by the response...

 

'Oh sure', said Louie. 'You see, the other day I wasn't feeling so good, and I ran for the bathroom, but before I could THINK, BLINK, or TURN ON THE LIGHT, I had already pooped my pants.'

 

Louie is now the new greeter at a Wal-Mart near you!

 

You probably will think of this every time you enter a Wal-Mart from now on.  

Telling It All About Listening....Six Word Saturday

When the office characters have a secret, they want everyone to know they have a secret.   If someone asks them what they know, they'll giggle with glee and zip their lips.   I should tell those who want to know, that if they'll quit asking and start listening, they'll know it all...and find out that they were better off not knowing.


Kinda like yesterday, when one of the girls downstairs decided to walk the stairs of the parking deck for exercise...upon arriving at the top level, came up on a nude sunbather...I have to admit, the story of the young man running to his car holding his pants in front of him and his shirt behind him to cover his naked butt was pretty funny.

For more Six Word Saturday entries (though, of course, mine is much more than six words) visit http://www.showmyface.com/!

Telling it all about Six Words...in far more than six words.

 Each week, http://www.showmyface.com/hosts "Six Word Saturday."   My six words this week are:

It's all about the

interview process.

Cast of Characters:

·     Miss Shop-all-Day will have a meltdown if she’s asked to do anything.  Even though she’s only shopping, her first response is “I don’t have time for that!”  Her second response is, “I don’t know.” or “I don’t know how!”   She’s now pregnant, and during the first few weeks of her finding out, we’ve had to hear stories every day about how many times she’s had morning sickness, where, when, how much…etc.  

·     Miss Sweetie doesn’t want to do anything extra that might help…but she really is sweet about it.  

·     Miss Director watches her brood and thinks what a great department she has.  She contributes to their idiosyncrasies in ways that amaze. 

·     Miss Whatever!  doesn’t  give a rat’s a$$...her words, not mine. 

After my Office BFF gave her notice and left, they had the task of finding someone new…which they did, and I like her…I like them all...but they can drive me bonkers at times.    I imagine the interview process went something like this:

·     Miss Director:   Do you consider yourself a chief or a peon?

·     Miss Sweetie:  :::nods and grins:::

·     Miss Whatever!:   Whatever!  I don't give a rat's a$$, but we really need a peon.  

·     Miss Shop-all-Day:   I don't have time for this.  I'm only here to tell you that I throw up a lot.

·     Miss Director:   Yes, yes, she does.  So, are you a peon?

·     Applicant:  ah...I...

·     Miss Whatever!:   I don't give a rat's a$$!  Whatever!

·     Miss Shop-all-Day:  I threw up 7 times this morning.   In the bathroom, the hallway.  The bedroom....

·     Applicant:   oh..I'm sorr..

·     Miss Whatever!:  Whatever!  I don't give a rat's a$$!

·     Miss Director:  She really doesn't.   Do you consider yourself a peon?   We seem to be in need of a peon.

·     Miss Shop-all-Day:  ....twice in the kitchen.  Let's see, that's only five.   In the drive way...

·     Miss Whatever!:   Miss Shop-all-Day, let the girl tell us whether or not she is peon.  I don't give a rat's a$$, but we have too many chiefs around here already.

·     Miss Shop-all-Day:   ...and in the parking lot!!

·     Applicant:  I...

·     Miss Whatever!:  Whatever!  I don't give a rat's a$$!

·     Miss Director:   Thank you for coming in. 

·     Miss Sweetie:  :::nods and grins:::   We'll be in touch.


For more Six Word Saturday entries (though, of course, mine is much more than six words) visit http://www.showmyface.com/!

Telling It All About Parents

Phone call as I’m leaving work:

Dad:   Can you come and help me with my Spanish program?

Me:    I can’t tonight, Daddy, I have an appointment.

Dad:   Oh.  Uhm.   Uh.  

Mom (in the background):  What did she say?

Dad:   She’s going to a party.

And he’s not even hard of hearing

Telling It All About...whatever comes to mind.

The fatter I get, the less room there is for patience.    I’m running particularly low because of the heat and humidity.   The Deep South is a wonderful place, but it’s hotter’n a witch’s boob in a brass bra around these parts in the summer.

Miss Stinky Cologne aka Miss Smoke A Lot aka Miss Shop Online at Work is now pregnant.   She has quit smoking, so the stinky cologne problem is gone.  Of course, she now shops even more because she not only shops for herself, now she must shop for baby.    She is very happy about her pregnancy, so naturally, she talks about it a lot.   That doesn’t bother me so much; however, every morning, I have to hear about her morning sickness.  

I think she is exaggerating, she has to be!  I’ve been pregnant, and was pretty sick.   Never once did I have projectile…you know, this is too gross to even write.   Let’s just say I don’t believe her stories, and I sure wish they’d stop.   It’s like she must top the one she told the day before.

I pitched a hissy fit this morning before stomping out and coming to work.  I consoled myself with unhealthy food, and called my sister to whine.   She very nicely didn’t take my side.   It’s still about vacation.   You’d think I’d just suck it up and behave like a normal person, but no.   I have to get my drawers in a wad because I don’t want to go in the heat, try to appease two families, and waste a perfectly good week of vacation.    So it doesn’t take much to set me off.  

My favorite co-worker is gone.  Left.  Outta here.  Not coming back.  I miss her.   She was my Office BFF and it’s just lonely here without her.   All throughout the day, we could email back and forth about stuff going on…and we could talk about anything and everything, especially our kids, and we understood each other.   We laughed at each other like no one else could, and she was my lunch buddy.   It’s been hard getting used to her not being here.   She was Mormon, and I’m Charismatic.   She told me I’d make a good Mormon.   I told her she’d be a good Charismatic.   lol  L  I really miss her.

I’ve thought about deleting this blog, because it really is just a gossip rag.   But I have to say, I enjoy the freedom here.  

I am going back to counseling tonight.   Two Sundays ago, I went to church at the later service, which I rarely do, especially by myself.   When I go, I normally sit in the balcony because I don’t really like a lot of people around me.    I don’t even like sharing a pew.   I’m a good little Christian, you know.   (I do have to share my pew, and I don’t sneer at folks who dare to make themselves at home on my pew, either.)   Anyway, I was headed toward the door that leads to the balcony, but at the last moment, I veered off course and went and sat in the sanctuary, close to the front, which is something I never do.  It crossed my mind that it would be cooler a little closer to the front, and that side didn’t look too crowded. 

Well…my former counselor came up to me, acted happy to see me…she’s always happy to see everybody, I think.   Very joyful lady.   Anyway she told me about this new counselor she’d really like me to talk to, and I agreed to do it.   I figure with all those out-of-the-ordinary things: the service, the seat, the fact that I was even there…God must have intended for me to see this counselor.   

I quit seeing Miss Joyful as a counselor after about six months, when we decided that we really weren’t going anywhere.   I didn’t pursue anything else.   Instead, I just curled back up in my pit and have taken semi-permanent residence there.    It may be time to venture out a bit.

Very long entry here.

Gotta get a little work done.

Have a good day.

Telling It All About Getting Hired...

If you think for one moment potential employers don't check Facebook and MySpace, think again!!!!  And once it's out there, it's out there, and it CAN prevent you from even getting an interview.

Telling It All About How Not To Raise Kids...

A co-worker story

My co-worker (CW) is divorced and has two children, and she is very involved in their lives.   The youngest one, a girl in the 4th grade, has no concept of the word "No."   CW herself tells me stories every day.   Her story today:

Little Girl  (LG) waits until the last minute to tell CW that she wants her hair braided.   This is not a normal thing.   CW told LG that it was too late and they didn't have time.   LG crosses her arms and informs CW that she's not going to school until her hair is braided.  CW immediately briaded her hair.   CW was late for work, but I do not know if LG was late for school.

Big Boy (BB) is a senior in HS, and it's finals week for him.   He has refused to learn to drive, and doesn't want a license.   He has an online girlfriend over 500 miles away, and he goes nowhere except his room to talk with g/f and play computer games.  He has decided that he doesn't want to go for the full day during finals week, and dictates to CW what his schedule is for the day.

She took him to school at 8.   Had to leave shortly after 9 to pick him up and take him back home.   Had to leave again around 11:15 to take him back to school.  Had to leave after 2 to pick him up from school, take him back home, and then go get LG from school.  She'll be doing this the whole week.

**She just called to say she couldn't come back to work because LG was having a meltdown in the parking lot, and she was taking her home.**   She was going to bring her back to work because she didn't have time for yet another trip home.

She had her kids a little later in life, and she doesn't have a clue that she can bust LG's butt, and leave BB at school like the rest of the kids.  Reckon I should tell her?

It's not a busy week, so her absence isn't a problem.  I just feel sorry for her.

Telling It All About Walking...

Though we walk reallllly slow, it doesn’t take much to get us breathless.   When walking with others, they can easily leave you and not realize it until they turn around to say something to you and you’re half a block back.

We have to stop and pretend to do something, like look for an imaginary dropped item, while we steal a moment to catch our breath.

Of course, when we are comfortable enough around good friends, we are just honest.  “Girl, you are walking too fast, and this fat chick can’t keep up.”  or  “I gotta stop a minute.  You can go on if you want to.”

And we’re always hot!    Always weather-wise, and sometimes otherwise.   J

Telling It All About Crass Jokes...

I couldn't help myself!  Enjoy:

Ole and Sven were drinking buddies who worked as aircraft mechanics in Minneapolis and one day the airport was fogged in and they were stuck in the hangar with nothing to do.

Ole said, "I vish ve had somethin ta drink!"

Sven says, "Me too. Y'know, I hear you can drink dat yet fuel and get a buzz. Ya vanna try it?"

So they pour themselves a couple of glasses of high octane hooch and got completely smashed.

Next morning Ole woke up and is surprised at how good he feels. In fact he feels GREAT! NO hangover! NO bad side effects. Nothing!

The phone rang. It was Sven who asks "How iss you feelin dis mornin?"

Ole says, "I feel great. How bout you?"

Sven says, "I feel great, too. Ya don't have no hangover?"

Ole says, "No dat yet fuel iss great stuff -- no hangover, nothin. Ve oughta do dis more often."

Sven agreed."Yeah, vell, but dere's yust vun ting."

Ole asked, "Vat's dat?"

Sven questioned, "Haff you farted yet?"

Ole stopped to think. "No "

"Vell, DON'T, 'cause I'm  in Iowa

Telling It All About What Bugs Me at Work...

Thrice weekly 2 hour lunch breaks...because I am not the one taking these "field trips."


Co-Workers who constantly talk behind each others' backs.   They're probably talking behind mine.  I do not participate; however, a top level manger does, the same one who goes on thrice weekly field trips.


An overwhelming and ever-growing stack of "old records" which much be sorted, scanned and boxed, which, for some reason, interns aren't allowed to do.


The fact that I'm too much a dweeb to tell the manager that I'm applying for interesting positions as they open.  Somebody :::smack:::the wimpiness outta me!


Second floor office, no elevator.  (I should be skinny by now!)


And the Biggie:  My Office BFF is leaving, moving far, far away.

Telling It All About Trainwrecks...

I like Trainwreck blogs.

I don't know why.

But I keep going back.
(Maybe because I often feel like one myself.)

Telling It All About Bad Moods and Vacation...

I woke up mad at the world.   Oddly enough, none of my co-workers have gotten on my one nerve, and I haven’t even had the urge to :::smack::: ‘em.

Smacking family may be a different story.

I’m very anal, and I like things to go smoothly and according to my plans.   Between my Hoary Headed Husband (HHH) and my extended family, plans for vacation have gotten so screwed up that I’m not even going.   He’ll be going by himself with his family, my family will be going without me, and I’ll be home plotting revenge on all of them.

I may now be feeling better.

Telling It All About Mirrors

I guess I’ve used the expression, “I need :::insert any undesirable thing::: like I need another hole in my head!”  one time too many.  I now have a hole in my head.  My face, to be more definitive.   I’m not talking about a nostril, either.   My skin is just not what it used to be.  It’s a little hole that’s appeared over the last year.  Age is not kind. 

Granted, it’s a little hole, but I can see it…you know, when I look into a magnified mirror.  (Of course, I never look in a mirror unless it's to see my face.)  Just so you know, a 15x mirror is NOT a good idea.  Ever.  Such a thing is not your friend. 

You heard it here first.

Telling it all about Six Words...

At least it does on any scales I'm standing on!

Telling It All About Nurses and Diversity...

Any doubt that what I was wearing looked like nurse's garb was laid to rest when a little lady asked me if I worked at the hospital as I was leaving the restaurant after eating lunch yesterday.   I said, “No, I only look like I do.”   I asked my hoary headed husband if I looked like a nurse wanna-be, and he said…”Well, now that you mention it…”

I had to take a “45 minute” diversity in the workplace training class this morning that was actually 1.5 hours.   I really don’t know what they expect to accomplish.   Good luck to ‘em.

I’m taking off tomorrow.   I may or may not move from my recliner.   

Telling It All About Continuing Education...

There's a Continuing Education class I saw offered...

"Working With You is Killing Me."  

::::Snicker::::

I should take that class.  

I need an attitude adjustment.

I could teach that class; however, I'd offer a 3 part course:

Part 1:  Your Stanky Cologne is Killing Me

Part 2:  Your Loud Laughter is Obscene

Part 3:  Professionalism, Where Art Thou?

Telling It All About a Dream...

I am not a George Clooney fan, nor do I have asthma.

In my dream last night, I was on a date with George Clooney.   While were walking about town, and I started having an asthma attack.   In the middle of my apologizing to him about the noise I was making while I was breathing, I woke up and realized I had been snoring!

Telling It All About Co-Workers....

It’s a  good thing I like all my co-workers.   A couple of them are on my one good nerve today, and a begging for me to knock a wooley wart on their heads.

Miss Smoker-Then-Spray-Stinky-Spray has added a new odiferous assault to my already-twitching nostrils:   a candle.   I promise I am going to ask her the next time I’m moseying by her desk if that scent is “Essence of Kitty Litter”  or  “Eau de dirty sox.”   At this moment, she has sprayed "the spray" and the candle is wafting.   She’s trying to kill me!   Somebody.  Help. Me.  

The other irritating thing this fine Monday is someone thinking I am her administrative assistant.  I’m not.   Now that that’s cleared up, she can quit wondering why I just look at her when she says those silly things.

On a bright note, I've remained on plan all weekend!

Telling It All About Reaching...

A fat chick can gain enough weight to stop her from reaching certain parts of her body.  Getting socks on and tying shoes can be a challenge.   If certain areas itch, all she can do is wiggle.   

I'm glad I'm on a diet.

Telling It All About Being a Procrastinator...

A Master Procrastinator, that is!

I'm taking a class...I had to beg, borrow, and steal to get into the class, and I have waited until the last minute to finish my project.   Really...I haven't even started it.   Finals are next week!  So instead of just studying, and I am trying to figure out how to combine scrambling and studying.   Ain't easy.   The Fat Chick has "being lazy remorse" today.

On a brighter note, I have stuck to a food plan all week.  

I haven't smacked any co-workers, even the ones who needed it, and there as at least two.   Wait, three.   One brought in warm Krispy Kreme donuts to taunt me.   I was victorious.  

Telling It All About Tornadoes...

I live in the tornado devastated South...God was very merciful to me and mine.   Waking up to the news that over 125 deaths and counting of my fellow Southerners...scores injured and countless without homes, electricity, gas, or ways to get food.    It's very heartbreaking.   

I have no words in my vocabulary to express what I'm feeling today, as I look up and see beautiful blue skies....what a difference a day makes.

Telling it all about being a hot chick...

Of course, I’m hot natured.   Ever met a fat chick who wasn’t?    I share a big office another chick, who is not fat.   She is cold natured.   It’s a climate war in here all the time.  In the winter, when I am just fine with the temperature, she turns on a heater, sometimes two.   Unless I get hot, it doesn’t bother me.   Unfortunately, the air control is right by her desk.   Not so long ago, it was 72° outside, and she had her heat on.   I was irritated.

Our air is not working.   I tell the maintenance guys to come fix it, she tells them it’s OK, and not to worry about it.   I say when it’s definitely 20° hotter when you step in here than in the common area, indeed it is a problem.  War ON.  

Obviously, I am still grumpy.

Telling it all about being grumpy…

The Fat Chick has a hangover from the chaotic weekend, and I am GRUMPY.  

The Hoary-Headed Husband says “What?” to just about everything I say.  I quit repeating myself some years ago, and usually he eventually answers, but on a grumpy day, don’t say “What?” one time too many to me.

I am into the 3^rd hour of my diet.   At this very moment, coworkers are baking chocolate chip cookies and the aroma is wafting into my office.    I think I can man-up and say no.   Even if I’m not a man.   Thankfully.

Seriously, I am almost in too bad a mood to be funny. 

I am pretty sure this is not the last post today.

Telling It All About Trucks and Bellies…

This weekend, my car was stolen.   Actually, it was taken by my hoary-headed husband, who left me his old pick-um-up truck, which has no air conditioning and a squealing back tire.    Fat Chicks need air conditioning.   We don't need the attention that comes with (very) noisy tires.  The thing that bothered me most, though, is the fact that with as far back as the seat would go, unless I sat up really straight, my belly still touched the steering wheel.    Really, really time for a diet.  Just like last Monday, and the Monday before that.   Somebody wish me luck.  Better yet, send a prayer up for me.

Telling It All About Easter...

The Fat Chick loves Easter.   Not because of all the candy and eggs…and egg salad and deviled eggs and boiled egg, pretty colored eggs…how many things can you do with eggs??   No, it’s not all the chocolate delights and jelly beans.   It’s because after being brutally crucified, He rose from the pit called death, He victoriously snatched the keys of death and hell away from Satan’s dreadful grasp, and made a direct pathway to God so that I could have a one-on-one relationship with Him, and I could be forgiven of my sins and misdeeds...of which there are many.   I am blessed, and I am eternally thankful.

Happy Easter

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Telling it all about Six Words...

Fat Chicks don't have it easy.

If a fat chick is in public restroom and it's stinky, everybody thinks it's the fat chick who made it smell that way, even when she's just as grossed out as they are.

Telling it all about my sucky day...

There was a time in my life when I would have never said something "sucks."   Those days are gone.  I now use the word, but I still don't like it.   I'm feeling pretty misplaced today, and I'm going to stay in my little nest for a while and ignore the outside world.   I may do that the whole weekend....though I do plan to venture out for Church on Easter Sunday.   

Telling it all about stinky cologne...

Miss Smoke-a-Lot aka Miss Shop-Online-at Work smokes a good pack a day.   Outside.  When she comes back in to the office, she sprays herself down with the most foul odiferous cologne. Several times a day.  Every day. 

Telling it all about bad spellers...

I suppose one shouldn't make fun of another, no matter the cause.   However, if I can't understand but half of what you're trying to convey because of your spelling, you may find yourself the object of slight ridicule, especially by those with whom you graduated, and you befriended on Facebook.

Telling it all about germophobia

I’m a bit of a germophobe.   I freely admit it and glare at people who invade my space.   For instance, when Miss Shop-Online-at-Work  rammed her used fork into the Easter Bunny cake, I glared.   I did the “Ewwww…you ate off that fork” whine.   She just shrugged, ate all the cake and offered me her left-over icing.   Again with the EWWWW.   Lucky for everyone, I already had my piece two pieces of cake and I didn’t have to smack her.   Not that she wouldn't deserve it.   Don't mess with the Fat Chick's bunny cake.