Little Bits of Pixie Dust

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thourougly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!!"

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

PMS, Packing, and Working with Women

Outside, it is cold and rainy. The leaves drip with moisture like tears, and inside, that is exactly how I feel. I am completely and totally stressed out about the upcoming move. It just all seemed to happen so fast and I didn't have time to plan for anything. Now it is Tuesday, I have nothing packed, and we are supposed to move on Saturday. We don't even have any boxes, for God's sake. We haven't switched any of the utilities to the new place. I don't even know if we can keep the babies (ie: the cats) legally in this new place. Tomorrow we go and sign the lease and get our keys. Is it wrong for me to want to just leave all of our crap at the house we live in now and start over in the new one? It is just plain laziness, I know. And right now, with nothing done, the task seems monumentous.

Also, the shot that I am on for the endometriosis? (Depo-Lupron, for those of you who are not familiar with my archives) I recently learned that though I will not have a period for six months, I do still get to experience the joys of PMS. Which I think is one of the other problems right now, the thing that is making me want to pummel every single person that walks past my desk or even breathes in my direction. The hot flashes just keep coming, too. The fan on my desk is going constantly, and I still sit there with sweat pouring off of me. Ah yes, this is what I was afraid of when I told you all that I was going to be a fat sweaty bitch. She's here, and she is really pissed off.

On the plus side, I now have two boxes. Two boxes to fit my entire life in. Just talked to A* on the phone, and he assured me that I will have to do none of the packing. I then cried to him that this wasn't fair, that it made me a horrible person to even think about letting him do all the work. Meanwhile, the part of my mind that still seems to be working rationally is telling me to be quiet, and knows very well that I will be sitting on my ass as he does all the work, and then I will probably get mad at him because it isn't done right. I just can't win today.

Finally, one of the many reasons that I hate working with almost all women. Yesterday one of the girl's brought in her wedding album. About a million people looked at it, but I am the only one that got an email saying that a rip "mysteriously" appeared in the box that the photos were in, and why didn't I just tell her that I had ripped it in the first place? First of all, I didn't rip anything. Second of all, if I did, I would definitely be woman enough to admit it, and probably even offer to pay for damages. Third, this is not the actual album that we are talking about here, oh no, we are referring to the box that the album was in. Is it really that big of a freaking deal, even if it is ripped? But I swear to you, blogging audience, that I did not intentionally or unintentionally rip any kind of box. But now? I may rip her head off.

Still wanna come over for that packing party? I am so pleasant right now.

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