Excuse Me, Miss

So I'm walking all fast like out of a building. The Main building for the De-part-ment that I work for, when I hear, "excuse me, Miss?" I stopped and turned to see this security guard. He smirked. I did the squinty eye thing of "wait....I know you from somewhere thought." YEP. Sure as shit (never really understood that phrase), there stood RH.

RH is a guy that was standing outside of a local bar (down where I live), one night quite late. My girlfriends and I had been drinking a bit and somehow I was standing there talking to RH. And discovered that he worked as a Security Guard where I work. REALLY? Seriously? Small world huh? Of all the building and places to work he works for the same place? My building is HUGE. I mean HUGE (that's what she said). The chances of him seeing me walk out of his exit (there are a ton of exits) on a day that he works are pretty random. About as random as him being outside of a bar that I am at

Yeah, and so today was the first time I've seen him since that night. Nothing romantical about it, since I am a married women after all. It's just a small little world out there. DC is a big ass city. Where I live is about 40 miles away. There are a lot, I mean AAAAAAA LOOOOOTTTTTTTTT of places to work in between here and there.

I must learn to hide better.

Dear Monday

Monday, Monday. I haven't seen a really bad one of you in a long time. I thought that our life long rivalry had finally come to some sort of truce. Oh how wrong I was. I guess you were just waiting until my guard was down so that you could attack. Or were you waiting until the husband and I had a great Sunday and I woke up all happy and rainbowy and stuff? Either way. YOU SUCK. AGAIN. STILL. EFF You.

You couldn't even wait until the morning light to jack up my Monday. At 12:15am I received a text from an old friend in regards to another old friend. Really? ICU? Critical? Septic Shock? Come on. EFF Hospitals.

Then, my alarm was set for 5:42pm not am. NICE. Only woke up ONE hour late. No biggie. Then of course, the slug line was LONG and I missed the window to find a parking spot in the lot I needed to be in. EFF alarms.

Oh and who picks me up for a ride but my friend CC. I should have just gotten a ride with someone else because the fact that he has to text his girlfriend (who hates me) when I get in the car and when he drops me off, makes me want to hurl in his new Infinity. EFF jealous people.

And then, I realized I forgot my badge. Not only did I forget my badge, but I forgot my Smartrip Card. Damn it outloud. EFF forgetting things.

Last but not least, my HR department has been waiting for me to bring in a copy of something for over a week. Guess what I forgot this morning? You guessed it. The paper. EFF forgetting things. Squared.

Dear Monday. I hate you.

Effword Friday

The silence of my anger is deafening.

I can feel it ripping through my heart like an armor piercing bullet.

Tears puddle into the bottom of my eyes.

Ever so close to spilling over the edge.

I try to collect my thoughts and nothing but confusion seems to come.

It hurts to breath.

I'm suffocating in "I just don't understand".

I'm grasping at something to hold on to.

The more I grab, the more everything slips through my fingers.

Disconnected

Disconnected

My lungs burn with anticipation of feeling.

My nerves pinch as I try to use words to soothe my defeat.

My insecurities play war against my creativity.

Thoughts rush forth but the words will not spring from my tongue.

I am void of any communication that makes me feel alive.

I have learned to smile and hide the pain.

Not The Mama

I hate one uppers. I hate people who think that just because I am not a Mother that they can always try to one up my bad day or my late for work or my so busy statement.

I know, because you are a Mother, you can just trade with me because your life is worse than mine or better than mine depending on the day you want to try to be better or worse than me so that you can get attention or have someone pay attention to you. <----run on sentence.

And my smart ass answer will be "oh I know, maybe I will allow my vagina to produce an excuse for everything." Let me get right on that since I'm not busy enough with working and having a life.

Dum Dums - Suckers - But Not The Lollipops

In recent months, with all of my single girlfriends, I’ve come to notice that men around these parts want to date stupid women. Or women that they can control or “be the tough guy” with. They don’t want to date a woman who is secure and stable and knows who she is and what she wants because they fear that they cannot live up to the expectations. Even though those expectations are set somewhere in their minds and not in the woman’s mind.

Men still fear being equal to a woman. They think that the same as being inferior or less than. And until they get over that, they will forever date women who will feed them and fuck them while they finance it all. What a waste of time and effort.

Back to WTFF?

I just don't understand why people can't do their jobs. I mean seriously, I've seen girls on the corner in Miami working harder to suck a dick for $20.00 than most people work at returning a phone call or an e-mail or "gasp" doing their job.

Hey hooker behind the desk over there at "that place". Stop being a See You Next Tuesday. I mean really. I don't give a damn if you are OLD and set in your ways. Times, they have changed. DO it electronically. That's the way it is done.

Oh and don't tell me to call my SA's to get an answer when it's YOUR SA's that I will be calling. Don't try to play me for a rookie. I know better.

WTF is going on with the workforce today? People are starving and killing themselves. Get your lazy ass out of that chair and go home and starve so that someone can come in and work.

That is it. Bless your hearts and have a nice day.

Dear Hateful Wild Animal From Last Night

Look here Raccoon, I know that we have a dog door and that it's big enough to fit most animals through, but you are not welcome in my basement. Especially at 2:30am. You ate dog food and then terrorized the dogs who terrorized you back and then my husband who tried to make you go away. You are lucky that I talked him out of putting a shotgun hole in the side of the house.

Your days are numbered. Just like those pesky squirrels in the backyard that keep chewing holes in my birdfeeders. My fancy BB gun was ordered before you even made an appearance and you be sorry that you scampered your way into our house.