Would you like to know what annoys me?
"Wait. June. Something annoys you?"
When people use trite phrases. For example, remember in The Wizard of Oz, when they said, "Lions and tigers and bears--oh, my!" It bugs me when people paraphrase that. Linens and teacups and bags--oh, my! Hail and winds and rain--oh, my!
And this is why I particularly hated myself more than usual when I realized I was out of gel today and said to my own self, "Houston, we have a problem." You've no idea how much I loathed my own self right then, but we really do have a problem, Houston.
I'd turned it upside-down, the gel bottle, and it all ran out onto the sink's surface and dried like There's Something About Mary.
I wish I'd mention more movies today. I get paid thousands of dollars each time I throw one in.
I saw Carrie last night ($$$$!!!!) at my old movie theater I like to go to. I've never seen it in its entirety, and one of the bitchy girls in the movie is actually the woman who was eventually in Ferris Bueller ($$$$$!!!), the principal's assistant who says, "They all say he's a rightous dude."
Anyway, it's a good movie, Carrie is, and the insane mom of Carrie has June Hair. She's also probably younger than me now, which is sad. Everyone's younger than me. My doctor is still older, thank god. But he's, like, half-retired.
Did I mention sad?
Also, I need to work in the phrase "dirty pillows" when referring to women's breasts more often. That's what the mom with June Hair called them. That Carrie mom seemed to have some sort of disorder.
Other than that, yesterday yawned before me with screaming emergencies and then nothing and then another screaming emergency and then nothing again. It's like working in an emergency room, except with words. In between EMERGENCY! NOTHING! I talked to The Poet, and I was telling her that I knew I had to go to the store after work, because I was 100% out of something, and now the end of the day was drawing nigh and I could no longer recall what I was 100% out of.
"Pudding?" she asked.
Pudding. Because once you're out of pudding, you're out of groceries.
It turned out to be Prilosec, which I consume by the gallon, and I should probably really return to the throat guy. He's really tall and long. Wears a lot of turtlenecks. Anyway I never did get any, because I couldn't remember and then I had to scream to Carrie ($$$$!!!!), and now today I will GERD all day. I'll be the hurdy GERDy girl. So.
I wish I could stay and talk about the important issues of our time, but I must be off. We had a yard sale fundraiser thing at work yesterday and I got measuring cups and a bowl and a dish towel, all from my competition, The Pioneer Woman. My own workplace selling the competition.
That clock back there I got for five years of service. It's very heavy, like an Academy Award.
My coworker Slutty Pancakes won the bike. There was a pretty bike, and I wanted it even though I can't ride a bike. "You can put your dog in the basket!" I told her resentfully when she went to retrieve it yesterday. I'd already pictured Edsel in that basket.
"The only dog that'd fit is the cremated one," she told me, and when she got home she texted me this:
Dying. So to speak.
Okay, I said I was going 72,000 words ago.