Tiny dinosaurs eat tiny ferns

Arggh…due to a monster staff meeting this morning I’m just now getting around to my Monday morning didn’t-have-the-patience-to-do-it-on-Fridaypile o’ work.

Blech.

Usually during staff meetings I don’t have much to say.  Talky McGossips-a-lot is one of those annoying people who can’t go to the corner store without running into a guy he used to work with, the lady he lives down the street from, and his second cousins thrice-removed (on his mother’s side).  He usually fills us in on who’s involved in what public policy scandal this week.  Another co-worker spends 45 minutes telling everyone about the work he’s attempted to do the previous week, and how his efforts have been thwarted at every turn by circumstances outside of his control (“well, so-and-so was supposed to get back with me about that issue, but I’m still waiting on an email,”).  I, on the other hand, keep my mouth shut unless absolutely necessary and take detailed notes.

doodle

Yes, our meeting was about giraffes that look like my sister.  And tiny dinosaurs munching on tiny ferns.  Oh, you weren’t aware I worked at the department of Make Believe?  Consider yourself informed.

These endless, pointless, WEEKLY meetings are taking a toll on me.  I am ripping my cuticles to shreds.  Seriously, my hands look like Frodo Baggins after one of our marathon meetings.  Any advice?  I’m thinking of getting a stress ball, or does that broadcasting too loudly that the combined neurosis of my co-workers stresses me the fuck out?  It’s like some truly messed-up version of Captain Planet.

Gossip!  Ineptitude!  Micro-management!  Blame shifting!  Enclosed spaces!

By your powers combined, I am CAPTAIN SHREDDED CUTICLES!

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p.s. I blogged this weekend in my quest to post 30 blog posts in 30 days (jeez, could this sentence BE any more awkward?).  So check out
this and this for some weekend bloggy goodness.

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Pirates pay for drinks with dubloons

It is the first day of October and I am getting way excited about Halloween. I usually make my costume each year, and in the past I’ve been:
a member of Sparkle Motion (okay, I didn’t make this one)

Frodo Baggins

a mermaid

Roxy of the Misfits


One year I went as a pirate and paid for all my drinks with Sacagawea dollar coins that I called “dubloons.” I thought it was hilarious and the bartenders thought it was annoying. This year I think I’m going to go all “Eagle vs. Shark” and be a Great White Shark. Even though I hate sharks and I am even afraid of them in the pool. Seriously. When I jump off of the high dive I haul ass to the ladder because I am just SURE someone has opened the underwater gate and let the sharks out. It’s going to be an awesome costume, though.

Speaking of sharks and pools and being crazy, I have this reoccurring nightmare about sharks and pools. In my dream, my mom drags me and my sisters to see Jaws, who has been captured and is being kept in the pool by our house. Well, she really only drags me because my sisters are all about it. I beg and beg and try to convince her that it is a BAD IDEA, but we go anyway. One by one, my sisters keep leaning over the side of the pool and falling in, and I have to keep jumping in and saving them. Over and Over. All Night. Whenever I have this dream I wake up exhausted and mad at my mom. Come on, Mom! I warned you. Sharks+kids=Worst Idea Ever. Jeez.

I also frequently have a dream where my mom makes me live under the stairs a la the Dursleys and Harry Potter, and won’t let me have any of the brownies she just made. Which is weird, because my mom would never deny me brownies. She is a very nice lady.

I think I’ll go to JoAnn Fabrics this weekend and get some supplies.