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OKC WTF

17 Feb

I’m just going to leave this here for you. You’re welcome.

Monday? More like Manday!

12 Feb

That’s right, bitches!  Guess who just lined up date #4 for tonight?  I did!  She who hasn’t seen a naked man (other than in her dreams) in more than eleventy twelve years!  Of course it will probably be either an absolute train wreck, incredibly boring, or somewhat mediocre, but I’m going.

Frankly, it’s an excellent excuse to skip the gym.  Sorry, Treadmill, I can’t see you tonight because I have a date.  With a man.  A living, breathing, actual man.  One who is gainfully employed and owns his own home.

Wait. Fuck.  This might be a bad idea.  He said he was a “gym ninja” who “loved working out.”  I am a couch ninja who enjoys eating all the carbs and not working out.  What if my fat rolls scare him off??  What if he doesn’t like muffin tops??  And we’re meeting at a pizza place!  What if I end up eating more pizza than he does?  Cuz let’s face it – I love carbs and never work out.  I just realized he’s younger than I am by 7 years!  I’m like his fucking out of shape grandmother!

PLUS I’m getting a pimple on my chin.

Fuck.  This is an absolute disaster.

Last I checked, you weren’t my boss

8 Feb

Know what’s “amazing”? And by “amazing” I mean “worthy of me punching someone in the mouth.” Being told how to do my job by someone who barely knows how to do their own job.  I call that, “being an asshole.”

I’m good at my job.  People enjoy my work.  Big mucky muck leaders call me to help them figure out how to do their jobs.  So when someone who does internal communications starts questioning what I’m doing, it doesn’t make me so happy.  This isn’t someone who is a go getter, role model, high performer.  This is someone in COMMUNICATIONS who sends out emails to the entire organization with grammatical errors, incorrect attachments, and broken links.  So you’ll excuse me if I tell him to go and suck on a big bag of dicks.

Shut your pie hole and learn how to write a email.  How about that for some advice?

In unrelated news, I think I’m PMSing.

Mustn’t read too much into it

2 Feb

Tinder date number 3, The Tutor, was kind of a bust. He was nice. Nothing wrong with him. He’s funny, gainfully employed, seems to have a nice relationship with his family, open about what he’s looking for and his faults, held the doors open, and walked me to my car. Needs a little work on the dress, but that’s all fixable. Not sure he’d be able to keep up with me in terms of banter, and I think he was a little intimidated by me. Just not what I wanted, not quite the right fit. It’s kinda like when you find a really great dress on the interwebs and you can’t wait to get it because you’re going to wear it to a big event, but once it arrives it doesn’t fit right across your chest and it’s too tight in the hips and then you’re stuck without the right outfit and you feel fat at the party. Exactly like that.

The worst part was that I had created this whole entire fantasy in my mind about how this would be the start of something special and it’s so disappointing when it doesn’t turn out that way. As much as I tell myself, “do not get ahead of yourself,” it’s hard to reign in the thoughts of how he’ll get along with my friends, whose house we’ll live in, how to break it to him that he’ll have to spend Christmas with my family, and where we’ll go for Valentine’s day. Now I have to get busy mourning this little fantasy relationship that I created for myself. Ugh, the worst.

It’s so discouraging and I barely just started. Then when I get back on stupid Tinder I run out of people to swipe on. I mean, OUCH! Like there’s literally no one around me anymore. And also, it sucks when you match with someone and you get crickets from them. A whole lot of nothing. Or else you get some random douche bag who just wants to touch you with the tip of his penis. Um, no. We’re not there yet. You need to calm down. Such a punch to the ego, you know?

I want to give up. I want to delete the apps and prepare myself to adopt some more cats. It’s easier. It’s less confronting. Would make me feel better about myself because I’d be the one making the choice to take myself off the market vs. contending with the fact that there’s no one out there for me.

The dating pool is like an above ground pool that has algae growing on the sides, leaves floating on the top, and too many dead bugs. In other words, not suitable for most humans. It’s making it really hard for me to jump in.

Step Up

7 Dec

Part of the reason my ass is so fat is that I suffer from an affliction that many Americans suffer from: laziness.  Why walk 3 blocks when you can drive?  Why get out of the car at the Starbucks when you can sit in your car an extra 20 minutes to order your venti whole milk extra whip hot cocoa latte frappuccino latte?  Why climb 2 fights of stairs when there’s an elevator?  Why cook when you can order fried chicken and have it delivered via Uber Eats?

I’m busy.  I have things to do.  I have cookies to eat.  And my Netflix queue isn’t going to watch itself. I don’t have time for fitness, and health, and that shit.

I live a mile from work and can’t be bothered to walk.  Instead I drive everyday, and park in the garage like my coworkers.  Walk up the 5 flights of stairs from the garage to the lobby?  Ha!  No way.  Fuck that for a joke.  I don’t bother entertaining walking from the lobby up the 3 flights of steps to my office.  In the elevator I go with all the other overweight folks who should cut back on carbs and try to get in 10,000 steps instead of just 5,000.  My big step intake is walking from the garage elevator to the office elevator.  62 steps.  Round trip.

So, you can imagine my dismay when the garage elevator broke yesterday.  I was riding up with a coworker when we started hearing lots of grinding.  The kind of grinding you don’t ever want to hear on an elevator.  20 minutes later a message was sent to all staff that the elevator was closed for repairs.  Closed for weeks until the needed part was ordered and arrived.

Great.  That means walking up 5 flights of stairs every morning.  Better not forget anything in my car because I’m not going back down to get it.

Even better?  Today our other elevator broke.  And we have no idea when that one is going to get repaired because we can’t get a fucking call back from our maintenance office.

Awesome.  Really fucking great.  8 fucking flights of stairs every god damned morning.

To add insult to injury you need to swipe in to use access our floor from the stairwell.  And guess whose office is immediately next to the stairwell.  Yup.  That would be mine.  I’ve already opened the door eleventy twelve times because the receptionist is too busy gabbing on the fucking phone.  I already got an earful from the Fed Ex dude that had to run up and down the stairs because he had too much to be able to carry in one load.

On the bright side I guess it means that I can shove a few extra Christmas cookies down my throat.

 

An Open Letter to Matt Lauer

30 Nov

Dear Matt Lauer,

Remember when you were in the news about a decade ago for wearing “mom jeans”?  Man, do I remember how people mocked you for those high waisted, faded, frumpy jeans.  As I recall you were also rocking a red sweater.  You kind of reminded me of an SNL skit, or a sad cat lady.  Yet you were still kind of okay.  That’s when you were still cool.  When families all over America would tune in to “The Today Show” to hear what you had to say.

You were the good guy.  Kind of handsome – aside from those awful jeans, a family guy, the boy next door.  The type of guy that girls like me found dreamy.  Charming, really.

How disappointing for us all to find out what an absolute douche bag you are.  How many hearts you’ve broken, worlds you’ve shaken, lives you’ve made miserable.  What an awful person you are, and poor choices you’ve made.

I’m glad those women came forward and told the truth about you.

Read your “apology” statement that you came out with.  I don’t think you’re sorry.  Scratch that, you are sorry, but you’re only sorry that you got caught.  You’re also a sorry bastard.  You know what you did wrong.  You know that you were being a fuck wad when you were you gifted your coworker a sex toy and told her how you wanted to use it on her.  What is wrong with you??  Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to do that unless the other person is clearly into you?

Guess what, Matt Lauer?  You can take your mom jeans and fuck yourself in your left eye.

You’re dead to me.

Insincerely yours, Catherinette

Pretty sure that’s not what “Black Friday” means

21 Nov

Oh, Target.  You’re so cute with the way you lure us in to your stores with a plan to buy one thing and then we end up buying a shopping cart full of stuff we didn’t know we didn’t need.  Adorable.

Not so cute are your racist Black Friday deals.  Did a search to see if they were running specials on Nespresso machines.  Search term was “Nespresso Black Friday 2017”.  You tell me your thoughts on the search results…

As my friends on “Sesame Street” would say, “one of these things is not like the other, one of these things does not belong.”