The Half-Week From HELL!

It is only the THIRD day of this week.  So far there have been a rainbow assortment of annoyances leading to an increasing level of infuriation.

– I’ve assisted degreed adults in the capacity of a Special Education teacher.  For stuff EVERYONE in the office workforce should already know like email and printing a flipping document.  Sorry, Mr. Omar, but “old” doesn’t really earn you my sympathies.  Or, my patience.

– Facilities delivered me 4 REAMS of paper instead of 4 CASES of paper.  Then, when they exchanged my screwed-up order, the guy mysteriously returned me only 3 cases…

– For the fifth time in 3 DAYS mail had to go BACK to the mail-room since whoever delivered his department’s interoffice crap decided to go by the month-old date and department on the overloaded FRONT of the envelope instead of flipping it over & using the single entry on the back with TODAY’S date.  I’ve really had quite enough of ignorant mailtards –

– The week began with Jar Jar Bitch in my office and her usual neurotic, frustrated demeanor saying things like “Don’t kill the messenger!” and “Don’t get mad; it’s CONSTRUCTIVE criticism!”, and “Don’t you know, I’M A MOTHER HENNNNN!!!”

This is just to soothe her own psychosis when she’s pissed about something & I messed up on a purchase order on Monday.  Sue me.  Honestly though, it can be challenging to act normal. Especially when the person who’s been a daily witness to your running around like you own the place and has remained quiet and helpful so as NOT to stir your lunatic ire makes ONE mistake…

Needless to say it was a distinct possibility that I might give up and punch the wall.  Just think – my entire right hand would require extensive convalescence and a I’d get a nice, little workers comp vacation.  Or a padded room… :/

Then THIS happened –

I want to take him home!

I want to take him home!

M invited me to walk up to the barn yesterday.  THIS guy melted me and put a smile on my face like taking bong hits with Cheech & Chong!  He practically cured my bad day; without “narcotics”.  I knelt in front of his stall and he walked right over and stuck his little head out to greet me.  Even better – when he started licking my hand and decided it was the right flavor to stick the entire thing in his mouth to suck on.

What I learned – calves have tongues like slightly more velvety cat-tongues (bonus: NO fish breath!) AND not only is interacting with large, baby animals therapeutic, some of them, like my new friend above, are big enough to hide behind.  😉

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About LVital7019

Just your normal, everyday 9-5er. An uninspiring position in an inspirational non-profit moves me to constant goof-offery; aimless, on-the-job procrastination; a crankiness that borders on psychosis; and attempting to craft something meaningful with words. Just another so-called-job inspiring someone to feats of insanity with a hint of creativity... (Insert demonic laugh HERE.) View all posts by LVital7019

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Tony Single

artist. wastrel. a quantum of potential.

The Greenwich Village Literary Review

A magazine by writers who love to write for readers who love to read.

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