Caterwauling

Speeding ticket: $40
Cell phone bill: $400
Late-arriving car insurance bill: $340
Monday being a planned vacation day but now full of meetings: yarr

Knowing I’m getting the fuck out of Dodge tomorrow
and have a Jacuzzi suite in the mountains for two nights?: Priceless

No sense in blogging when Sarah Buxton’s “That Kind of Day” sums it up just fine.

“Stayed out about two hours too late,
An’ now it’s hard gettin’ out of this bed.
Man, my boyfriend was a pain in the butt last night,
Now he’s an ache in my head.
Stubbed my toe on the dresser an’ I guess,
It’s too late to shower an’ do my hair.

Yeah, throw a ball cap on;
Hell, half the day is gone.
And nothin’ else could go wrong, whoa, oh.
Fifty bucks is all I got:
When times are tough, it’s time to shop,
An’ my credit card’ll buy a lot, whoa, oh.
What’s another bill to pay?
It’s that kind of day.
Hey, hey, hey, yeah.

Got 26 messages on my voicemail,
An’ I’ve only called my best friend back.
An’ I told her: “When it comes to my life these days,
“I’m somewhere between a cry an’ a laugh.”
She said my Mom just called her,
An’ said I look like I’ve gained five pounds.

Ho, oh, slip into my fat jeans.
Overdose on mint ice-cream.
Treat the day just like a dream, whoa, oh.
Hope I see someone I know,
An’ I’ll smile an’ put on a show,
Say I got somewhere to go, whoa, oh.
Everyone’s got something to say:
It’s that kind of day.

Standin’ still on the interstate,
An’ I swear some old lady,
Just flipped me the bird.
(Did she just flip me the bird?)

It’s gotta go up from here.
Today is gonna disappear,
An’ nothin’s gonna interfere, whoa, oh.
Gonna buy myself some flowers,
An’ then spend a couple a-hours,
Talkin’ to my Higher Power
Ask Him why life’s this way.
(Ask Him why.)
Yeah, I’m gonna ask Him why my life’s this way,
(Why’s my life this way?)
There’s just no tellin’ what He’s gonna say.
Oh, it’s just that kind of day.”

Do you ever wonder about whatever it is you’re waiting for — whether it’s the biggest test of your faith or the (next) biggest waste of your time?

“Sky fell down and pulled us in
Stole away my oxygen
And left me standin’ breathless there with you
The ocean wrapped around the sun
The smell of June — the taste of your tongue
Was all I’d ever need

But you – you keep on waiting
For the sun to come around
And you — you keep on waiting
For something better — better off to come around.”

– Sister Hazel, “Come Around”

A near-perfect, dreamless slumber was hideously interrupted by the stench of cat ass. Maddie apparently thought it a terrific idea to throw up on one side of my bed and then go to the other side — right in front of the fan that blows at my bed — and take a hot, steaming dump at 5:45 a.m. *barf*

T-minus three days till I step on a plane and get the fuck away from that nut house for a while. I might even get on the return flight, although at this point? We don’t know. …

Man, I seriously have nothing to say. Wow. Revel in the silence, people.

I booked my hotel for the weekend. Jacuzzi suite, kids. I may never leave it and the rental car will be a waste of $120.

Actually, I have to vacate the glorious room on Monday as I have a quickie work commitment while I’m out where the deer and the antelopes play, so I downgraded my room for the last few days of my trip. Can’t go charging that one back to the company, although a girl can dream.

It’s been a rocky month. Man, I don’t know how I’ve made it this far without charges being brought against me for the mere images of homicides I could have committed. All I have to say is this, as it applies pretty much across the board: If you promise to not talk to me, can I get that in writing? Pretty please?!?!

In other boring news, I’d like to know how my insurance company cannot manage to send my policy/ID cards to my new address (and I’ve been here six months) BUT the idiots are sending my deceased grandfather’s bills to my address. Apparently anyone with my last name EXCEPT me can get a bill here!

I wish I only had to pay the $100 that his monthly bill is — shit, they’re telling me that mine is $160 a month — and that was the cheapest quote I could find! (Fucking D.C.)

Work is actually manageable, which means I’m either slacking off or forgetting about something huge. Actually, it’s more a testament to the fact that I hired really well. How did I used to do all of this stuff by myself? And why do I feel guilty now when I can leave at 6 p.m.? *sigh*

In any event, if I can just get this week’s project pulled out of my butt off, I will be a happy girl. Otherwise, next week’s work trip will be a waste of thousands of dollars in manpower and equipment. No pressure, of course.

Excellent, I’ve just put myself to sleep. And probably you, too. In that case, Zzzzzzzzzzz …