Wasting Time

A week into the new year and I have already slowed down considerably. The only creative endeavors I have taken on lately have been making tons of obscene jewelry for The Cruise (WOOT!) and updating my Facebook with drunken holiday photos. I am only posting today because the alternative is to start on a huge project at work, and I wish I could feel bad about that, but I just can’t. I’ll do it; it’ll get done. But right now I am eating dried mango and cleaning out my email, a stack of work on my desk waiting patiently for me to feel like it. Things that have wasted time nicely:

Eating a free tuna fish bagel with baked chips. The vendor I order most of our lunches from, because they are cheap and they deliver right to the room, makes an awesome tuna salad with onions in it. Raw onions. In tuna salad. Don’t kiss me, is what I’m saying.

Remembering a conversation in which Jackie does her impression of me. This impression consists solely of Jackie hunching forward, dropping her voice three octaves and saying, in the surliest manner possible, “Hi. I’m Sarah. I have a blog.” I laughed for about five minutes, because the only way that impression would be more apt is if she had delivered it with an age-inappropriate cowlick and finished with the braying donkey laugh that I do when something is unexpectedly funny. Some people never have people who love them this much.

Scheduling seventeen meetings and ordering food for each. Seriously, I order a lot of food.

Sighing heavily, yet again, because someone has funked up the bathroom with an unholy potpourri scent. If you need to do your number twos at work, go ahead. Everybody’s human, and sometimes you gotta go. You do not gotta use the can of air freshener to cover the smell. It’s a bathroom; it’s okay if it smells like poo. The scent will dissipate, unlike the smell of horrid canned flowers, which will hang in the air until culottes come back. Also: spraying air freshener does not get rid of the scent of poo. It doesn’t even mask it; it adds to the nastiness that you have wrought. It’s not un-Poo, it’s Poo plus FLOWERS! Flowers that have been so distilled they assault your senses with with jazz hands! If the Airwick people had considered this, they would have made bathroom sprays in scents that complement poo, like mushroom or gasoline. Flowers that come from a can smell exactly like you would expect: completely unnatural. In short, you are fooling no one. We don’t care if you took a dump; we care that you’re either trying to mask the fact, or you’re trying to blame it on Rue McClanahan. Stop it. Just poo.


Mamaclsn said…
Rue McClanahan, mushrooms, and gasoline. Pretty accurate. Excellent analysis.
Dann Rafferty said…
That last paragraph was the funniest thing I've ever read.

No, I mean it.
Gibulet said…
Oh my god, I laughed out loud at the mushrooms and gasoline. That was great.
Anonymous said…
AWwwww to your reaction to my impression of you.

Also, the gasoline & mushrooms thing was hysterical. And gross.


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