Its a Monday boys and girls and get ready because Aunt Ing ain't happy. First let us start with the idiot person who found it necessary to hit a freaking utility pole EARLY this morning, causing my limited sleep to be more limited by the never ending sounds of sirens and trucks what one didn't notice at the bleary hour is I HAD NO POWER - and therefore overslept... AND I have no hair dryer... NO it's not a good look and THANKS so very much for asking... (and yes Sally that is sarcasm - deal with it)
Second that - that Football team - or junior varsity team that apparently kidnapped the paid freaking professionals who then managed to play rockette football they were either kicking it through the uprights or punting away and watching the guy as he ran by... OH! And another thing - will someone on that team please teach Jeff Reed how to freaking tackle someone! Yeah yeah I know he's a kicker - but dude - you're on a football team - just learn to dive at his freaking feet - slow him up enough so a real player can catch him and avoid those 6 points. Oh and to the offense -- If I wanted to see the Rockettes I'd go to New York - not Heinz Field. Its called a goal line - you have to cross it to win a game - look that up in your new copy of football for dummies it will be delivered via Amazon this afternoon-- you're welcome.
Then the cherry on the sundae of my Monday - no not traffic it was there it was dealt with it was lost in the noise of the rest of the swirling poo-mess of my morning -- call from Mom. Apparently Aunt Ing's brother's wife (aka my sister-in-law) has determined without forethought or consideration to ANYONE else but her own pampered fanny what the Thanksgiving schedule will be. Really cupcake? I so don't think so. One, you see your dysfunctional band of misfits on a VERY regular basis and please don't tell me you don't... two, we alternate years to avoid these arguments, hurt feelings and family beatings, and third, I'd like to see my brother for more than 15 minutes per year and to see my nieces then too... like it not toosty-pop they are my family too... My brother needs to see his own band of dysfunctional misfits too just to ensure he's not going completely crazy... of course he lives with her... and I live with Bubba I guess it's your own slice of crazy. You're own brand of crazy is comforting outside sources are just - strange.
Then I spoke my Dad, caught him almost pre-coffee so he wasn't as quick as he normally would have been. But we talked, vented feelings about Thanksgiving, football, life in general, and he's going to "have a chat with his son". Screw that pop- tell him to find the jar where his wife has his 'spine' and go insert it. Heaven knows Bubba always manages to find his... he must find it when he's hiding dirty glasses for the clean sink - I digress.
Going to be a fattening lunch - just because. Did I mention the boss was here too? Screw fattening I may just drink lunch and keep going through my Monday meeting. That should keep life interesting no?
Back to the giant cog in the wheel of Nameless Corporation... *sigh*
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