Bloated and touchy. And not the good kind of touchy, like "touchy-feely" either!

I hate the scale, or rather, I hate that a day to day fluctuation can make me as mad as it did this morning.

259.8 That’s TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY NINE POINT EIGHT! Damn, blast and double damn!

Seriously, five goddamn pounds!?!?!?! In one day?!?!?!?! Man, that’s really annoying. I realize it’s due to some stress induced consumption of baked goods last night, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying, does it? It must be water retention for the most part, because I feel a little bloated. If I could only lose say 8 gallons of water I’d be well along the road to recovery!

FURTHER ANNOYANCES:


AUTO SHOP

My car is in the shop. I think it’s my wheel bearing, which was replaced a year ago. Or it’s my axle, which was replaced in March. It could be the tie rod (doubtful) which was replaced in July. Or it could be a brand new thing that is going to cost too much bloody money. Tom Petty said “The waiting is the hardest part,” but I call shenanigans. I have the feeling that the longer they take to call you, the more it will cost. In my mind, every hour they wait equates to approximately 100.00 plus tax. The fact that their hourly labor rate is NINETY FIVE FRICKING DOLLARS AN HOUR is probably a coincidence, right? I have no scientific evidence to back that up but who cares? Everyone knows 78.6 percent of statistics are completely made up!*

Really!**

Man, sometimes I wish I took the bus.

Well, I’m sure as soon as I find out how much this is going to cost I’ll be back screaming about it. Get ready!



BOSSES DAY (a food annoyance)

There’s a hell of a lot of food here today, not a whole lot of it is anything I ought to be eating. My boss, bless him, has the metabolism of a hummingbird on speed and 26 Red Bulls. Conversely, I have the metabolism of a slug on downers. Fortunately, some one brought in a veggie platter so I can eat eleven tons of celery instead of the freakishly large and thick cookies. Admittedly, they look delicious, but I am tired of being large and thick myself. No cookies for you***!





* Actually, it’s probably higher than that, seeing as I just made that statistic up myself.

** No, not really…

***You of course, meaning “me.” You, dear reader, can have as many as you like. Unless you’re trying to shape up too! If that’s the case, no cookies for you, either.