So one of my overtly gay friends was talking today about how he was so excited to sell expensive handbags to bratty girls and their hott college boyfriends and dads.  I’m neither gay, nor a bratty girl, and I am very offended by that, but I can’t put my finger on why.

How is it that so much wonderful “free” mind time is on the toilet?

• Realized that I put my underwear on inside out this morning.  I prefer it this way because the outside is so much silkier than the inside.
• The upstairs bathroom at work smells like a really nice kitty litter.  Like what a fresh bag would smell like for the first 3 seconds before you realize that it’s clay and bad for your lungs and unborn babies.
• Ideally, I want a job where I can just be pretty and nice all day.  And maybe have some sex.  Then I realized, I was thinking about prostitution!  #Awesome

So, as I just got done updating my Twitter, Facebook AND the CeeKow, I figured I should elaborate on my blog, not that something like this needs a long, drawn out explanation.  Maybe it’s more for me.  When I look back on this in the future, maybe I will be wiser. 

As a long time procrastinator, one would think I would see this coming.  And I totally did.  Earlier this January, when I first entertained the idea of taking the GRE, I froze.  I didn’t start studying until 2 weeks beforehand.  2 stupid weeks.  After the last 2 years of applying to grad schools I know when the deadlines are, and yet, I convince myself that I can’t be right.  I waited until November 3rd when I know (and researched!) that the deadlines for the schools I’m interested in is December 1st.  I’m sabotaging myself, and I don’t really know what I am afraid of.

I’m scared of moving on.  How do I know if this is the right path for me?

I don’t know whether I should be embarrassed for these men, or joyed that they found a product that works for them and their needs.  Experience the Mantyhose.

I have done so much learning and writing and thinking and job-ing in the last few days, I think I deserve a vacation, but I can’t have one until I either finish my grad school applications or die.  Either or.

You sneaky bitch.

You know, the time change wouldn’t be so difficult if I understood it.  I mean, I get the concept; Spring forward, Fall back.  That’s not hard.  What pisses me off is that I set my iPod, which had no connection to the internet to update on its own, back an hour so that when my alarm went off, it would be at the right time.  Right?  Wrong.  When I got up, showered and looked at my clock, I did a twelve take.  Could it really be quarter to 7am?  Could I really have spent an hour washing my hair?  How does my iPod still say 645 when I reset it?  What day is it?  Do I even have to be awake now?  How did my iPod reset itself after I had pre-emptively reset it.

Horrible, horrible way to start the day.  Not the worst way; but a horrible way.  So I raced to work.  Raced to log in to my computer.  Raced to eat my breakfast.  Raced to start my cases.  I feel like I’ve been on a treadmill all day and there is no stopping me for the next hour and a half.  I think “kill me” is an appropriate response to how I am currently feeling.

On Friday is the annual halloween decorations contest at work and I really want to win.  The theme chosen by the decorators is ‘Haunted Hospital’.  We have hung up hospital supplies and covered them in cobwebs and the like.  We will also be stuffing some men’s clothing, hiding a crockpot in his belly and server our hot lunch out of there when the judges arrive.  We were looking for other sorts of spooky things that could be served in a hospital.

Enter Sandy.  She is the woman who sits next to me and we have become quite friendly.  She briefly mentioned that when her daughter goes camping, they make up jello shots in plastic syringes.  They are no mess, easier than jigglers and a freaking fantastic idea! 

Tuesday we scoured high and low to find syringes without the needles and where do you think we found them?  Just guess.  No?  Okay.  FLEET FARM.  Yeah, the horse place.  I guess there is a steady demand for syringes in the farming profession.  Who would have guessed?  Side note:  As I’m checking out with my box of syringes, a box pops up on the monitor for the cashier that I cannot see and she asks, “is this for farming purposes?”  I stifled a laugh and mumbled, “If shooting heroine is a farming purpose”, then quickly added, “No.”  Apparantly I had to be more specific judging by the sour look on her face.  SO I informed her that we would be having a party and this was a way to neatly imbibe liquor suspended in a plasma-esqe substance.  She looked at me for a minute and said, “Oh!  You know what?  These would be great for those Jello shooter things!”  Lady, you do not know how right you are.

Now, because these are for a work function, they cannot have alcohol.  At least not the ones that I give to my coworkers.    Aren’t these a freaking fantastic idea?  I will never again let a Halloween pass without making these beauties.  They’re so clever!  And the syringes can be reused, so I don’t have to buy a new box every year. 

 Just so ya’ll know, 3 small packages of Jello will fill approximately 100 syringes, two shot glasses and a small ice cube tray of jigglers.  I cannot WAIT for Friday!

One of my best friends and 75% of my current coworkers have gone home or stayed home sick because of the piggy flu somewhere in their households.  Is my immune system just this good, or doth something wicked this way come?

But in the best way possible!  Check it out!  This morning when I asked what he had planned for today, he made some halfhearted attempt to explain football or golf or some other manly sport that is difficult in the rain.  While I was away at work, he and his grandpa (who should have a doctorate in plumbing, woodwork and architechture just for being) put in the new double sink that Hubby and I bought last week.  Brother in law will be up to put new tile in the floor next weekend, so there may be new pictures for next weekend too!

Two, check it, TWO sinks!  One for each of us!

Look how clean it is!  (But that’s only because my stuff isn’t on there.  It’s further off to the right.  He he.)  I think some special sexy time is in order tonight.

Here I am, sitting at work, bored as hell because people don’t call me on the weekends.  Luckily I have permission from my boss to leave early if the call volume doesn’t pick up by 1pm as I took OT on Friday when they were slam-fucked.  I think I will take her up on that offer and watch the Packer game with the Hubby and MIL.  Score.