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sissyhiyah So I'm running extremely late today.
Boys and girls, if Amanda says she's late, then she's effin' late. Like, an hour and a half late for work, which is much different than my usual thirty minutes late. There exists a peculiarity in the fabric of time that means I am thirty minutes late to everything. That's simply a Sissy-ism. But an hour and a half late is just late, like what you normal people experience.
Anyhoo! So I'm late. I'm eating protein bars while I chug a Coke, which tastes just as good as it sounds, and breaking at least six traffic laws to get to work.
Did you know that protein bars are kind of like lembas bread? You're only supposed to eat one, but I was starving, so I ate like, three.
Yeah....
So that means that I run to the bathroom when I get to work, but whether it was to puke or not, I'm not sure. I just felt like it was better to be safe than sorry and hey. At least the shit-room is quiet.
Usually.
So I'm in this state of serious reflection, contemplating the complexity of life and existence, considering the mechanics of world affairs (which means that I'm having this mental Celebrity Deathmatch between Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie, but they're in a tub filled with green jello and Megan Fox had lasers in her eyes) when these kids bust in and fuck up my meditation.
All three of them pound on my stall door, which irritates me because I consider this holy time. They must not be bilingual because "Ocupada" didn't translate, but "Shove off, fuckers." did. Go figure.
Anyway! I'm not about to rush (holy time, remember) so they start fighting amongst themselves over who gets the other stall. It became this prepubescent shoving match, with the one I had named Fucker #1 emerging the victor.
Fucker #1 does her thing, as does Fucker #2, but Fucker #3? I think she forgot she had to piss because she was so wrapped up in singing "Crazy" by Aerosmith. What kid knows that song?! I'm singing along by this point because that's one of my favorite songs, but I think it freaked the kids out because they bolted (without washing their hands, mind you) and they left me to finish it all on my own. So much for appreciating good music, right?
And now Debbie is handing me a cup of coffee and telling me about this tiny woman in room 13 that has no teeth but wants to tell her a joke.
So that's my morning so far.
Boys and girls, if Amanda says she's late, then she's effin' late. Like, an hour and a half late for work, which is much different than my usual thirty minutes late. There exists a peculiarity in the fabric of time that means I am thirty minutes late to everything. That's simply a Sissy-ism. But an hour and a half late is just late, like what you normal people experience.
Anyhoo! So I'm late. I'm eating protein bars while I chug a Coke, which tastes just as good as it sounds, and breaking at least six traffic laws to get to work.
Did you know that protein bars are kind of like lembas bread? You're only supposed to eat one, but I was starving, so I ate like, three.
Yeah....
So that means that I run to the bathroom when I get to work, but whether it was to puke or not, I'm not sure. I just felt like it was better to be safe than sorry and hey. At least the shit-room is quiet.
Usually.
So I'm in this state of serious reflection, contemplating the complexity of life and existence, considering the mechanics of world affairs (which means that I'm having this mental Celebrity Deathmatch between Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie, but they're in a tub filled with green jello and Megan Fox had lasers in her eyes) when these kids bust in and fuck up my meditation.
All three of them pound on my stall door, which irritates me because I consider this holy time. They must not be bilingual because "Ocupada" didn't translate, but "Shove off, fuckers." did. Go figure.
Anyway! I'm not about to rush (holy time, remember) so they start fighting amongst themselves over who gets the other stall. It became this prepubescent shoving match, with the one I had named Fucker #1 emerging the victor.
Fucker #1 does her thing, as does Fucker #2, but Fucker #3? I think she forgot she had to piss because she was so wrapped up in singing "Crazy" by Aerosmith. What kid knows that song?! I'm singing along by this point because that's one of my favorite songs, but I think it freaked the kids out because they bolted (without washing their hands, mind you) and they left me to finish it all on my own. So much for appreciating good music, right?
And now Debbie is handing me a cup of coffee and telling me about this tiny woman in room 13 that has no teeth but wants to tell her a joke.
So that's my morning so far.
