golden birthdays and atm's from hell

A guy I work with called me a PITA today. I had no idea what that meant so I let it go. Well, it means Pain – In – The – Ass. Rude! I like it though. It has a nice ring to it. And if you knew me you would know I live for abbreviation and acronyms. I love abbreviating. It’s an illness with no cure, don’t judge me. Oh and euphemisms! Or catch phrases. Once I get something in my head I run with it. Example… Pish. Made up word, but it works so well. And now instead of ish or ick or gross I use pish. And I use it a lot. Oof.

So my day was crap yesterday. I’m not sure anything else could have gone wrong, and I can’t jinx myself because it’s done. The ATM at my credit union ate my card and stopped working, just as it was about to hand out a large amount of money to me. Then while in panic mode my cell phone died as I was trying to cancel my card. It lasted all through the hate message I left for the credit union, but crapped out after that. I had to go to two gas stations to use the pay phone. Conveniently enough both were out of order, sweet. I got a terse call from my credit union this morning that pissed me off. I was upset. And your stupid fucking machine ate my card and didn’t give me my money. You alluding to the fact that the machine is down and will need a service call was unwarranted. Also I could give two shits, get a new machine you cheap fuckers! That shit never works.

Then when I finally get home I have to make 4 dozen cookies for my bosses birthday and taco dip. Awesome! Oh and while walking in I get a request to broil some pork chops. I’m sorry. Kind of busy now, but I can’t be mean to my father otherwise he yells and pouts. So after my cooking extravaganza and just generally being pissed the fuck off, I stubbed my toe. Like really, really hard. I cried for like 20 minutes. That shit hurt! Satan talked me down for a while which helped. Shit just got to me yesterday. I was yelled at by a homeless person for Christ’s sake!

Also, I was working out a plan to go to Seattle during Memorial Day weekend this year. Satan couldn’t go, so I asked SF#2. Big mistake… I didn’t really think I could put up with her shit for 6 days, but I was willing to try just so I wouldn’t have to go alone on my Golden Birthday Weekend. She originally was down for the tickets being somewhere in the $400 region. So yesterday when I found some that were in the $200 region I immediately called to see if I should book them. I got an “I didn’t know they were going to be that much, how many days do I have to take off again?” shtick. So before when they were more you were down and now suddenly they’re half that and you have a problem?

I’m guessing she and Josh are doing something else instead, and maybe she can’t take off a whole bunch of days or afford to take two vacations. Which is fine! I’m not an unreasonable person. I am pissed that you lied and said you would go. And now all of a sudden you don’t want to say why, but you can’t go, but we can talk about it on Saturday. I’m not slow like you hooker, I know when someone tells me we’ll talk about it later it means no! I wasn’t born yesterday, but thanks for fucking up my GBW. I’m pissed!

That happened about two hours before the ATM incident so my senses and emotions were kind of heightened. Looking back I might have freaked out on the credit union answering machine for no reason. No, scratch that, those fuckers are assholes!

I’m getting off early tonight. Superbad and cookies are calling me! I think it’s time to relax and veg out. I have to work early tomorrow anyway. Yes, I get to work up front all day on Valentines Day while people have flowers delivered. Great, nothing reminds me more that I don’t have a boyfriend or significant other than when I have to call people and say you have a delivery up front. Then I get to see they’re happy faces. And listen to them talk louder so others can hear about their delivery. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m not so good with commitment. I would rather be single. But on that hellish day I really don’t want it rubbed in my nose. By people I work with! That’s really low. I’m actually dreading it now!

I’m going to eat a cookie and then pretend to work for an hour and a half, wish me luck!

Update: I'm a VBP because the FedEx guy just came in and dug through the candy dish with his dirty fingers. And now I'm watching people eat the candy after him. Is it bad that I'm telling them to take a couple more? I'm not sure. But he was going to town for the 'white ones' that he likes. Pish!