A Tizzy

Last night, just as I had hoped, I was able to successfully execute “Project PM” in which I take Tylenol PM very early in the evening and sleep for twelve hours. It was beautiful.
And I didn’t even mind that The Bitch came back to work today. Well, okay, I minded. But not enough to punch her in the throat. But…again…it was only her first day back. I think that comes on about Day Three. By which time, if you don’t hear from me, you should assume that I have been arrested. (That’s Friday, for those of you who will be checking up.)

The upside of things though, is that my supervisor has realized that she is, in fact, a raging bitch and I feel confident that with that knowledge, I will be in a better place overall.

Yay, me!

But in the meantime…

I got a little irritated with the disarray of my CD collection and we are currently at war. I have switched out the CD books, realized that most of my CDs don’t have cases, and alphabetized the hell out of the ones that do. I am far from done with this…but I had to break for beer. (My new bumpersticker, “I brake for beer.”) In the process, I discovered that all of those nameless CDs? They are strange. Not unrecognizable, but grouped with very random song selections and I have to wonder, “Was I on drugs?” to which the answer is…”Probably.”

Finding out that I have to be in a wedding in less than four months has put me in a bit of a tizzy (wow…I don’t think I have ever used that phrase before…is that British? Am I British?) and I’m having a bit of a dilemma. I want to lose a little bit of weight so that I don’t look like a whale disguised as a bridesmaid, naturally. I mean…no one invites whales to their wedding, let alone lets them be IN it. So…I have to lose 15-20 pounds. And hope that the dress (which may or may not have already been paid for by the bride’s mom) will fit. (Translation: Hope my boobs don’t shrink.) Because I distinctly remember arguing with the stupid fitting lady about my boobs for half an hour when I went to get measured.

Her: No, I think you need a bigger size, your bust is too large for that dress.
Me: Look, lady, I might as well be a career bridesmaid, I am TELLING you. It will be fine.
Her: No—And then I chopped her head off. The end.

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Girl" - Frente


soopadoopachaloopa said...

whoa! the same thing happend to me when i was fitted for a tux (the jobey's wedding, a goddamn usher?!) the dude mesured my arms and then i cut his head off. great minds do think alike.

Pookie.... said...

another wedding??? that sucks!