I am just having the hardest fucking time conducting life today….maybe I’d even go as far as to say hardest fucking WEEK. My Monday started with a kitchen catastrophe involving coffe, silverware and my cat. I woke up early in order to be able to shower as there is a rotation schedule in my house. If you’re not in during your allotted time slot, tough titties, you’re going to work ripe. On Monday, I switched with my sister so she could sleep later and have the later slot. She usually does it for me so I thought I’d throw her a bone and what can I say…I’m a giver. So I planed on being at work early Monday or treating myself to a McGriddle, hash brown, breakfast sodie and additional roadie hash brown on the way in. For those not taking full advantage of life, a roadie hash brown is the additional brown you eat on the car ride to your destination. So I’m in the kitchen multi tasking per the usesh morning chaos. At this point I’m simultaneously making my lunch, microwaving cat food since he can only eat it at a cool 60 degrees, making my travel coffee and brushing my teeth. After pouring an entire big ass car mug off my father’s special blend, I gesture towards something and knock the entire fucking thing INTO the opened silverware drawer, on the counter, on the floor, under the coffee pot (which is full and too heavy for me to lift and clean under), in the cat food and on every freaking piece of shit in that silverware drawer. I feel I have to specify there were additional items in that drawer because no one can ever just use it for utensils. There are can openers (when was the last time you cleaned that shit…for real, I don’t even know how to clean one and I thought it came brown and gooey), bread ties, straws, chopsticks and whatnot. I was frozen in disbelief as I saw my value meal slip out of reach.
I only had one option at this point…to scrub and scour every inch of that fucking kitchen as fast as possible before my OCD ridden father came downstairs and saw what would surely throw him into a tailspin. 20 minutes later, it’s satisfactory. The floor was still sticky but I didn’t have time to make a 3rd pass on it. It was enough to where I hoped he wouldn’t notice the spill. When I saw a drip coming off the cabinet and him heading towards it, I confessed. I said I got 99% of it and I’d clean the rest when I got home so DON’T TOUCH IT. I come out of the bathroom 5 seconds later to every piece of silverware being washed and laid out on paper towels and him RE-CLEANING my already cleaned slop. I begged him to leave it but after 26 years of life, I’ve learned to pick my battles. This is how he gets his daily ya-ya's. I, however, got mine by proceeding to spill my coffee two more times on my journey from the house to my car and not confess. I received an email two hours later from him letting me know the kitchen spill was taken care of. Later that night my sister blew out a light bulb and yanked the chord out of another light in the basement. She had been home a total of two hours. My poor father.
Today I get to work and quickly realize I’m having a major wardrobe situation. I’m wearing leggings with a dress and sweater. I’ll previse this by saying the dress is made of the same material as the one-use plastic tablecloths. This shit is static clinging to every area that would cause an HR blunder. I sprayed anything I could find up there. Water, hairspray, body spray, some weird cleaner under the bathroom counter… After I walked around the bottom floor and through HR with my dress static clinging to my ass cheeks, I decided to ask around for Static Guard. Who the fuck is going to carry that shit you ask? I’ll have you know the first person I asked (straight, male) had a travel can. You would’ve thought I was spray painting the side of the Eiffel Tower with how much I sprayed up there.
Between the scent of hairspray, body spray, toilet spray cleaner and Static Guard, I’m a walking ball of eye watering stench. I finally start my day of working only to pick up my full cup of tea and spill it all over myself. Why is it that we can only spill liquid in the crotch area? Is it something about the privates and zipper region that ATTRACTS liquid? It’s like every other area of my bottoms are water proof and the beads of liquid just roll and congregate in the crotchel region so no matter what, it looks like you peed yourself.
I only had one option at this point…to scrub and scour every inch of that fucking kitchen as fast as possible before my OCD ridden father came downstairs and saw what would surely throw him into a tailspin. 20 minutes later, it’s satisfactory. The floor was still sticky but I didn’t have time to make a 3rd pass on it. It was enough to where I hoped he wouldn’t notice the spill. When I saw a drip coming off the cabinet and him heading towards it, I confessed. I said I got 99% of it and I’d clean the rest when I got home so DON’T TOUCH IT. I come out of the bathroom 5 seconds later to every piece of silverware being washed and laid out on paper towels and him RE-CLEANING my already cleaned slop. I begged him to leave it but after 26 years of life, I’ve learned to pick my battles. This is how he gets his daily ya-ya's. I, however, got mine by proceeding to spill my coffee two more times on my journey from the house to my car and not confess. I received an email two hours later from him letting me know the kitchen spill was taken care of. Later that night my sister blew out a light bulb and yanked the chord out of another light in the basement. She had been home a total of two hours. My poor father.
Today I get to work and quickly realize I’m having a major wardrobe situation. I’m wearing leggings with a dress and sweater. I’ll previse this by saying the dress is made of the same material as the one-use plastic tablecloths. This shit is static clinging to every area that would cause an HR blunder. I sprayed anything I could find up there. Water, hairspray, body spray, some weird cleaner under the bathroom counter… After I walked around the bottom floor and through HR with my dress static clinging to my ass cheeks, I decided to ask around for Static Guard. Who the fuck is going to carry that shit you ask? I’ll have you know the first person I asked (straight, male) had a travel can. You would’ve thought I was spray painting the side of the Eiffel Tower with how much I sprayed up there.
Between the scent of hairspray, body spray, toilet spray cleaner and Static Guard, I’m a walking ball of eye watering stench. I finally start my day of working only to pick up my full cup of tea and spill it all over myself. Why is it that we can only spill liquid in the crotch area? Is it something about the privates and zipper region that ATTRACTS liquid? It’s like every other area of my bottoms are water proof and the beads of liquid just roll and congregate in the crotchel region so no matter what, it looks like you peed yourself.