It’s hard being this happy all the time


* Bitching in the workplace:

A woman left a message on our mortgage hotline saying that she had one question for us. When I called her back she literally started sobbing dramatically about how her lender wouldn’t debit her account. Then she would apologize for sobbing and start doing it again anyway. Then she screamed, “And I have caaaaaaaancer!!” as though those two situations are related. I have people call me in all sorts of crisis and horrible situations but somehow they manage to hold themselves together and not scream at me. There’s another message from someone who talked for two minutes straight and sighed a lot during the message. She also said she couldn’t lose her house because she had livestock. Oh well, I’m sure your lender will accept that as a reason.

Also, I accidentally responded to an email from HUD instead of forwarding it. Wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t say “All I have to say is WTF?!” I am the height of professionalism.

People who sit silently in the bathroom stall for a really, really long time trying to pretend they’re not there. We all know you’re there and we all know you’re pooping.

*Bitching on tv:

Vagisil commercials. How bad would your itching have to be to ruin your wedding? How bad would it have to be for your anti-itch cream to just stop working? Like it tried and then just realized it wasn’t up to the job so it just gave up. Then there’s the woman whose itch and funk are so bad that it turns her reflection into a woman with a hoodie pulled down over her head in shame. I certainly can’t forget the woman who “found out the hard way that all feminine washes aren’t the same.” How exactly do you find that out the hard way? I suspect the presumably fresh-vaginaed women behind her have something to do with the answer to that question. Apparently they are down-wind from her nastiness. All of these women need to get themselves checked out because that kind of itchy funkitude can only mean they’re rotting from the inside out.

*Bitching about people:

While I was in line at to order at McDonald’s, the guy in front of me started scratching his ass. Like really scratching. WTF? He knew I was behind him so did he think he was invisible? Maybe the vaginal itch is contagious. Clearly men are not bound by the same sense of decorum when it comes to addressing the itch.

Then there was the woman who stood in the doorway while I walked back and forth getting condiments and drinks. She never moved while she talked on the phone. She saw me coming and going and it never dawned on her to get out of my way. Why would it, since it was clearly all about her. How can you be that clueless about the fact that it’s not all about what’s convenient for you?

*But I’m not all bitchiness:

While I was driving to work I saw a man running for the bus, and I realized that I am always secretly hoping that the person catches the bus. It’s so not like me. You’d think I would be out there tripping the person. Maybe because I admire the fact that they’re putting themselves out there, letting the world know that they’re hoping to make that sucker. And it’s never someone who should be running; it’s always someone who is horribly out of shape and panting, and will probably be drenched in sweat by the time they make it to the bus. I guess I blew all of my generosity on the bus dude.


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