Pulling into the station

December 14, 2004

So you know how I'm anal retentive about keeping my calendar at work? I have to keep everything written down - I can go back and tell you what days the boss was out this year, what days the accountant came in on, days that the dogs went to the groomers, when I ordered shipping supplies, TV show premires or finales, my days off, etc. Anyways, I went and bought my 2005 calendar. It's called "the Procrastinators Planner." Isn't that an oxymoron? Procrastinators don't plan stuff. Duh. So I told you that story to tell you this one...

I was moving stuff on my desk and my current calendar (Peanuts because there seems to be a plethora of them in Santa Rosa, gee, wonder why) slid off and cut my leg. I was attacked by my desk calendar. Doesn't that just suck? It's not big, but damn it hurts. And why is that? Why is it that the big gashes never hurt as bad as the tiny paper cuts?

Don't you hate it when you just know that you bought a box of crackers at the store and you know that you didn't finish them... and now you can't find them? I hate that. And now I'm sad because I was planning on using those crackers as a part of my dinner. Now I have to rethink my whole dining plan. Damn.

And someone needs to remind me tomorrow to go get holiday stamps. Or any stamps, actually. I need, need, need to get these cards in the mail. (And I should probably ship out my niece's present, too.)

Why does the last call of the day have to be from a real nasty beeyotch? Can't I end the phone-day with a nice person? Like that old man, he was nice. Noooooooooo...

Why I'm Limping Today stopped here at 4:08 p.m.

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