Saturday, December 11, 2004

OHNONONO! The Company Christmas Party!

O Christ o lord, methinks I will have to start drinking now, heavily. God look upon me and forgive me the very fun sins I am about to commit this evening. I must dress up like a fool and stumble over to the boss's mansion for the hubbys Christmas par-tay.

It's four pm. We are to be there at six p.m.. Precisely why I must start drinking now. My hubby is only mildy concerned, as he knows I am well able to hold my alky-hawl, and has never seen me (well, perhaps once) less than able to main-tain myself.

I figure if I can walk and smile, while my eyes look all sparkly (really a drunken glaze) and say happy holiday to you! to all the coworkers, I am doing my job. I HATE THIS HATE THIS um, I dont wanna go! SHITSHITSHIT.

What the fuck are you supposed to talk about during this soul tearing horror of socializing? I mean, cmon, I can't point and laugh at those I have heard the good dip about, nor publicly snub those my husband feels are assholes, nor tell his boss what a jerkin fool he is. So what to say?

I can only throw caution to the wind and try to imbibe as much as possible, and eat as many shrimps as they lay out. Screw the cheap multimillionaire jerk. Im getting my moneys worth. Maybe I'll wear something slutty. Or perhaps dressing like a prudish librarian would be more fun, considering the drunken state Im sure to end up in later in the evening.

Well wish me fun.

Friday, December 10, 2004

The Job Hunt

Those of you who know me an love me will be sure to sympathize with my current state of affairs, namely, my status as "one of the unemployed".

Somewhere, in paperwork right now laying on Dubya's desk, I exist as a blip, a tiny point, a character digit, representing one of those "American's out of a job". He should call me, I have some real important, "direct from the field" survey data he needs. Evidently. Because the job market in this, the real world, is not being represented accurately through the media at large at the moment. Trust me on this one, I am in the know.

Ahhh, the job hunt. Effervescent, delightful toe tingling joy! I haven't had this much excitement since my last rectal exam, divorce, root canal or jeans shopping expedition. What fun to sum up your life on one piece of 8.5x11 lite bond laser paper! And should you feel the need to get it all down, and splurge on 2 pieces of paper, you must know now your wasting a tree. The second page is never read, and even if you are that impressive or interesting, no one else really cares. So save it. Make the font smaller, bite the bullet, and condense. (Just a wee bit of advice from a pro).

(How did I actually arrive at such a depressing and sorry state of affairs? Hmm, well, that's another story. Suffice it to say, I'm suing the Bitch! Anyway, what's it to me? My attorney believes in me and my cause, and God Bless America! She took the case on a "Contingency", and for those not in the know of legal jingles, that means I aint paying her a dime till it's all said and done and we win. So she's werkin her ass off, and if the jerkin of the gherkin is for nutin, taint no hair off my teeth. Anyway, I cannot lower myself to live in the past, its just bad for my Karma. I refuse to come back in my next life as a three legged cricket. So, onward and forward I say.)

The present situation is dire, my friends. The world at large is unkind, and its stupendously horrifying when you realize how truly shitty most people are. ...Oh baby, baby its a wild world (hum along)...When your down, and troubled, and you neeeed ahelping hand.....(keep singing....) you find that your friends (so called) and family (you can pick your nose but you cant pick your family) are there for YOU. Yessir! Rely on those closest to you, to tell you very important things you need to hear during this time of terrible, depressing, gasping for breath o-mi-god what if I can't pay my mortgage next month horrible panic anxiety attaaaacking times. Their such a help!

You'll hear thing sure to pick ya up! Like, "You can't just sit around all day and eat twinkies and watch infomercials, no one will hire fat people anymore" or "Hey my nephews friends fathers brother in law has an opening for a farmhand, and I thought of you and knew it would be the perfect thing!" or "oh, you'll never see that kind of money again." This becomes plainly true as you ponder your previous 6+ figure salary and complete the "Test to see if you can alphabetize files and Add" on your fun filled took-you-two-and-a-half-hours-in-travel-time- job interview.

Jealousy is always sure to rear its ugly head when it comes to the money, cause family and friends will always want to make more, and have more, than you. Its scary to realize you've been enrolled in this competition without your knowledge, but doubt it not, you have! Of course, you only get to learn about the race when your out of it. I understand, generally, because for most of us, our monetary earnings define how accomplished we have become in our lives, regardless of our works reflection on who we are, and if we actually ENJOY it. Its what we do "it" for. It=work. Most of our lives are spent in pursuit of work, and dammit, what that freakin end of the year W2 says we got for all this shit better look good. Fuck. Thing is, I know not 1 person, NOT ONE, who I believe really LOVES what they do, and do IT, regardless of what they earn. Sux, really. So why do we scramble, run, compete, and pursue this thing called work?

Cause I got big fuckin bills asshole! Why else? I hear ya. Yea, me too. Sux, really. To tell you the honest truth, the most fun I've had in like ten years has been this six months of unemployment. The last time I had this much fun was the last time I was unemployed. And to be technical, I could quantify that a bit by saying I have enjoyed the "rest and relaxation" portion of this stint of joblessness, and the fact that I have time to ponder the bigger questions in life. And clean. Alot. My house is a sparklin. And do creative things, like whip up gourmet meals, and polish my puppies toenails.
Last time I was on the job hunt, I was in my early twenties, and had tons of fun in a much different way. I ran to the bar everynite, cashed my unemployment checks, and basically drank and partied round the clock. Shit, that was the life. But not this time around, because of bills, and obligations, and Im just too old and fat. (Actually, it's because Im married now. That's the real reason. If I wasn't married, I'd be right back in the bar (perhaps a higher class of establishment this time around) cashing those unemployment checks and swiggin vodka gimlets and pinching the asses of cute young boy toys.....but I digress...)

Lets just say I have enjoyed this special quality time I've had with myself lately. And no matter the comments from clown corner that I have to hear regularly, I refuse to loose site of the goal! Which is: a real gravy job. (Want some fries with that???) Shit, I don't care about the money. As long as hubby and I can pay the dues, we got it going on good. So to speak. And ifn we caint pay de bills, well shiiit. ....(sing along again).....wait a minute wait a minute Im for come on honey lets sell the stock and spend all the money and go looking for a brand new day... Somewhere we can live cheap, in a warm tropical climate. Ride bikes to work and eat alot of spongecake. And the biggest problem I would have to deal with is...what color of flip flops match my shirt today?

I mean really, what the fuck?

I am off to pluck a few chin hairs, but I give you this motto to live by:

"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 thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

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