To continue from the nipple blog, here's the thing: Don't Google a medical symptom unless you are prepared to die from your mystery condition. Even if you don't have the same exact symptoms, you will once you read about them. I mean, one of the catch-all symptoms is oozing. Let me tell you something about that: If you squeeze ANYTHING hard enough, you will get fluid to ooze out of it. Anything. Try it. ANY-THING.
Now back to other randomness...
I work with a woman who has a dictionary at her desk. An old school, hardback dictionary. Personally, I think it makes her look like an even bigger idiot. In a world of spellcheck and Internet, is a dictionary even necessary? If I could open a non twist-off beer with my teeth, would I carry a bottle opener on my keyring? (note to everyone: I do not have a bottle opener on my keyring) Women with boob jobs don't need bras. Even moderately intelligent people living in the 21st century do not need hard copy dictionaries at their desks at work. It's all the same, people. The only thing that dictionary is good for at this point in time is kindling. Better start with the F's!
And...
I read an article that said a cluttered desk, or a desk that was "perceived" as being unorganized, could lead to your inability to obtain that raise or promotion you've been wanting. Needless to say, I spent this morning cleaning up my desk - I put away random little toys, I consolidated all my sticky notes into a nicely typed Word document...I tightened my shit up. I expect to get that raise/promotion any day now. And if I don't? I'm setting up one of those huge, blow up yard decorations in my cubicle. Maybe the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, maybe something holiday-neutral...? I don't know yet.
Lastly, here's the real reason for this blog: I ran into an exboyfriend over the weekend. I was in my hometown, shopping at the "new" Wal-Mart. There I was, in the dogfood aisle, when I heard, "[WC]?? Is that you?" I looked up, and there he was: M.R. Ugh. We dated about 12 years ago.
(sigh) We dated, we broke up, he joined the Air Force, I moved away, he was discharged and then went on to make babies with several girls all over town. I said Hi and realized he was checking out my cart...which was topped with the biggest pack of toilet paper I could find. Great. Not that I cared, but the last thing I needed was for this guy to think I've grown into a woman with a poop problem. Why else would I need 24 rolls of extra thick, double-ply? Indian name: Ass on Fire. Aisle 5.
So, we went through the "How are you's" and all that, and when I asked what he was up to, he blurted, "I'm-engaged-we're-getting-married-in-October." Then he asked about me ~ was I married, engaged, anything...? And I responded, "Well, I was engaged for about a half-hour..." and he cut me off to say, "I'm not surprised, that seems to be your style." Excuse me? What a jerkoff. AND he was still looking in my cart! So I said, "Yeah, well, you know...(awkward laugh) Don't worry, there's no cat food in there." I was so pissed. I was thrown off my game, and this bonehead was taking cheap shots. It was over a decade ago! Get over it! I had been rendered speechless due to the awkwardness! Life was SO unfair. I was, am, a shitty girlfriend...how could he still hold a grudge? I did the guy a favor!
Well, we stood and 'caught up' for almost an hour. Translation: He talked about himself and made as many digs at me as possible. And the entire time, all I could think was, "I'm so glad I showered before I left the house this morning." It also helped that in between his digs, he spilled that he was a loser mall security guard and he's marrying a chick who has a 13 year old son. His mother still hates his guts and his dad ended up being gay. Okay, so I made up the gay part, but still - there was a 64 oz bottle of ketchup next to the toilet paper. I could only IMAGINE what kind of impression that was making!
We finally went our separate ways, opposite directions, of course. He went towards Automotive, I opted for the cereal aisle. I was so twitchy after that unexpected run-in, I bought cereal I didn't even know they MADE anymore: Grape Nuts? Raisin Bran? Honey Nut Clusters?!?!? Sure, they'll go GREAT with my toilet paper and ketchup. I was happy to get out of there, which for me, is a wasted trip to Wal-Mart. I could linger around there for HOURS.
And so, if you take nothing from this story but one thing, at least take this with you: When shopping, grab the toilet paper first. Put it on the bottom. No one in this world needs to know what you're wiping your ass with. Especially bitter exboyfriends. They are out there, and they will find you.
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