Schmitty!!!

Lots to cover. Little time. Well, all the time in the world really, if I want to continue to put off the work, gym, my taxes, my life - but seeing as all those runny noses are pressed up against my picture window (and they must be really, really motivated as I am on the 21st floor no less) and thus make me rather anxious - today's scrivening is, once again, *ding, ding, ding* The Running List: Sudden Onset of Mild Tourrettes and Other Random Afflictions.

1. "Look! It's Flying Elvii!" In Vegas for the weekend. 36 hours - in and out. Seems quick. Really more than enough time. Lots of liquor, lots of food, lots of lights, lots of tourists with fanny packs at all hours of the day, lots of bad, bad behavior. If I heard "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" one more time, I think I would have thrown up. Though not sure if it was that or the 5 lbs of lox I consumed, bowl of oatmeal, and 4 7 dwarf sized apples I consumed at the Bellagio buffet? Or maybe it was the magnum of champagne? In any event, a tourism board slogan does not a license for unfettered bad behavior make. Or rather, it may be license for bad behavior you choose not to tell others about (Ooh, I went out and had wild, sweaty OMG sex with that hot guy I developed the meaningful relationship with over half a bottle of vodka and 15 minutes on the dance floor) but not for behavior you don't even want to tell yourself about (you know what I am talking about: the acts that you see when you close your eyes and it causes you to scrunch up your face in an effort to squash the painful image. I imagine that 4 foot tall woman I saw who was sucking on that one man's nipple and then grabbingt he crotch of every other man in sight was probably doing that on her whole plane ride home - at least I hope so).
2. Flirting is Disaster: Speaking of crotch grabbing woman. All I have to say is, really? Come on, socially retarded as one may be and loosened up by liquid courage as one may get - at exactly what point does random crotch grabbing sound like it might be sexy? ("How do you do? Oh, let me say hi to the Boys as well?" No, no, no!). And really, do you want to be stuck with the one guy who does respond favorably to that? ("Oh Baby, I love it when you publicly molest me. Wanna come back to my trailer and meet my mom and our shotgun collection?" AGH!)
3. Beyond Claritin: Runny, sneezy, itchy eyes, sleepy, dragging, overwhelmed - no it is not the 21st century iteration of the 7 dwarves, rather it is my physical self at work. I am allergic to my job. Clearly. It makes me ill just thinking about it. Waves of nausea this weekend anticipating it. Once again, as always, no real reason for it. Well, not since I got back from the gauntlet anyway. Just having a really, really, really hard time concentrating. That is why I am still here at 10:21 pm. That is why I will be here for hours to come. That is why I will have to get here early, if I can win the battle with myself to get out of bed in the morning. Discussing this weekend how you can get fired for a blog. Hmmm, wonder what the severance for that is like? Need my job to make ends meet, and avoid having the move back home with parents (read: lovable loony bin). But seriously, this is, as my sister would call it, redonculous. Note to all - this concentration problem is at least partially to blame for the very poor quality of this entry. I keep thinking of words and topics and then they just slip away. Sorry excuse. But there it is. Sepaking of...
4. C is for Cookie. I had four cookies today. Big ones. And many Skittles and some pretzels. Awesome. I am truly a fucking beauty queen. Winner through and through.
5. Succinct Ravings: If I said that I was tired of my own ranting and raving about my issues, would anyone believe me? No. Why? Because I would keep ranting and raving about my issues and then about how tired I am of such R&R on top of that. Nothing but a steady mountain of complaints. Damn, I need to be saved for myself. I am just going to drown out anything that is actually good and pure and likable about me with kvetching. (Need an inner-life coach: "Waah, waah, waah! Awww, shut up already! Seriously - let! it! go! Enough! Please!") Well, I will either eat till I can't get through a doorway, complain until no one will listen, or actually develop Tourettes and actively scare people away that way. Either way, my secretary of state's policy of isolationism is well on its way. Wonder why you are single? Why? Look at yourself. Read it. It's all here. That is why. Would you want to buy into that by choice? I wouldn't. Damnit, I need to finish something here today so that I can go home. To bed. So that I can have the distinct pleasure of coming back. That is another thing: is there something wrong with me that I am not only capable of, but actually derive more enjoyment from, vacationing at home. Just doing nothing around the house - absolutely fantastic. Love it. Nothing better. Really. Okay this is not productive. Am gonna stop wasting everyone's time here. May tomorrow be a better day.