‘Hello, Kettle? This is Pot. You’re black’

I am physically, emotionally and spiritually drained, and all I wanted was some damn sleep. Well, at 3 a.m., Kadie started raising hell. And here it is, 4:30, and I cannot fall back into slumber to save my life. Which means, impaired blogging!

(I think “impaired blogging” should be a legal defense, because work is on my mind and work is what I shall blog about if it means I can clear my head and return to a reasonably normal state of functioning.)

I had one of my infamous “yam fits” yesterday, in which I started laughing and Just. Couldn’t. Stop. Everyone fears my nervous breakdowns, but I think I’ve proven time and again that I am harmless. Me going off the deep end entails me breaking out into hysterical giggles. That’s it. I’ve watched, and taken the brunt of, miserable meltdowns — at least mine are entertaining.

All I was doing was stalking another colleague online when that colleague walked into my office and I had to show him something on my computer. (And by stalking, I just mean that I heard they have their own side business, and I was looking it up. Nothing creepy like finding their X-rated blog or anything like that. *squick*)

Anyway, they were long gone when I realized, oh yeah, they probably noticed what I was doing when they arrived, and it set me drowning in the Giggle Noodle Soup. (Does Lipton even make that anymore or am I showing my age?)

I admit it, I’m ever-so-tightly wound right now. Do yourself a BIG favor and NEVER EVER NEVER say the phrase in my presence, “How do I write that down?” I’ve heard it enough times to last me forever, kthxbai. Because, to borrow a phrase, I will poke a hole in that blow-up doll and watch it FLY around the room. *zoom*

I was also, to a lesser degree, scratching my head over the Helpful Horvath syndrome. Since I’m all about coining useless phrases on this blog, the Helpful Horvaths of the world will point out to you the obvious — that you have a stain on your shirt or you’ve stepped in mud or have a big flaming zit on your head — basically that they are proud of their own observation skills but YOU are the one who has to deal with what the problem is.

And all I have to say about that is that if you don’t know how to use all the forks when you’re invited to a nice dinner, then maybe you should quietly observe and follow everyone else’s lead instead of stabbing someone else in the temple. Especially if you were told to save that fork for dessert. Just sayin’.

Anyway, I’d rather focus on the good, because there is WAY more of that than anything else. Specifically, there was a touching moment yesterday when I was trying to tell Sabre to take a blog break or not to drive herself too crazy over the latest “Thing” that arose that her perfectionist self was going to kick ass at because that’s how she’s wired, even though it wasn’t supposed to be her burden at this juncture.

I told her not to lose her sanity and what’s left of her free time over this, and she picked up her phone and said, “Hello, Kettle? This is Pot. You’re black.”


Guilty as charged of being another perfectionist in overdrive. (I can has social life? I can has night off? I can has full night’s restful sleep?)

Speaking of rest, it’s 5 a.m. Try to get an hour of sleep, or scrub butt and get an early start on the to-do list? Decisions, decisions. …

One Lonely Response to ‘Hello, Kettle? This is Pot. You’re black’

  1. Sabre :

    Aw hell, now I’m laughing my ass off and I can’t stop! I have this image of a blow-up doll flying around the room saying, “Wait, how do I write this down?”

    OMG I can’t stop laughing! *bwahahahahahahahaha*