Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Just Isn't as Magical

WARNING: DO NOT LET SMALL CHILDREN READ THIS
or you will have a lot of explaining to do


Okay so now that's out of the way.... over the last few years I've found that Christmas is suddenly just upon me. When I was a kid it seemed like Christmas took forever to get here. Every day I woke up in excitement and ticked off the days but it always felt so far away. I don't know about you, or if you celebrate Christmas, but Christmas was always a big deal in our house and it was always a magical time of year for me. To this day the smell of a Christmas tree (a REAL ONE... we don't get no fake trees in our house) is my favorite smell, and I think it's because of my childhood Christmases.

Over the last few years Christmas just hasn't felt as magical. The snow is a life-threatening, time consuming gray sludge, not magical fluffy white stuff that I could roll in, build with, and eat. Although I look forward to Christmas and really enjoy this time of year (aside from the cold), it just isn't as enchanting and exciting anymore. Whenever it came up in conversation I always say something like, "Ever since I found out the big man wasn't for real, Christmas hasn't been as magical." 

Then one day I was driving home, thinking it'd be so much easier to just drive my car off the road into a ditch instead of trying to get everything done and it dawned on me - it's not my disbelief in Santa that has made Christmas less magical. That's not it at all. I've drawn pictures to illustrate why, I feel, Christmas is less magical for me as an adult than it was for me as a child.








I'm pretty sure I've figured out where the magic went.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Winter Solstice, Merry Yule, or whatever else you celebrate. I hope your holidays are magical

With love from Cake Betch, Justin, and our semi-retarded dane Kaiser.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

My Mom Says I Curse Too Much on My Blog

She says the cursing might offend some people, and someday if an employer reads my blog I might not get hired (or I could get fired).

To address the offensive part: I gave some thought to this, and I tried to clean up my mouth type a little, but I just can't help it. I like expletives. They're so colorful, so definitive, bold, unflinching.... and crude. I do use curse words in my every day vocabulary, but not quite as much as I do in my blog. Why? I'm not sure, but I know I like to use them to really drive home certain points. I did however change the blog settings to "over 18" or "questionable adult content" or whatever it actually says so that people are forewarned. And for you, dear reader, if cursing offends you, this blog is probably not for you. But if you're a foul mouthed son of a bitch like me, we should have some fun! Whhheeeeeeee!!

And for the employer part: This actually concerned me a little more. I'm sure it wouldn't take very long for any employer or future employer to figure out who I am and read my blog and I think they could very easily get the wrong idea about me from my blog. This blog is my 'party' side, my 'fun, crude, rude, tell it like it is' side. I have another side, and that is Business Cake Betch. I can flip between Party Cake Bitch and Business Cake Betch with the drop of a hat. I can walk like, talk like, look like, and be a consummate professional. I'm educated, well read, can easily hold a friendly business-appropriate conversation with anyone, and I know what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace. I've gotten every job I've ever applied for except for one (but I had absolutely no qualifications for it). Justin told me the first time he met me (at work) he thought I was a consultant of some sort. The point I'm trying to make here is that Party Cake Betch knows where her time and place is.

And you know what? I don't know if I want to work for someone who can't appreciate a little crudeness and humor in an appropriate venue, so there.

Here is a pictorial explanation of the spread between Business Cake Betch and Party Cake Betch. I'd like to explain it using this glorious mullet because, of course, mullets are business in the front and party in the back. Just like me!

Okay, this is Business Cake Betch. No cursing, clean, well dressed, gotten plenty of sleep, bright, and chipper. Ready for a business meeting, talking with clients, or giving a speech. No flashy clothes, nothing that stands out in any way. I can't offend people, I don't look trendy, and I basically blend in with all the other suits.

This is for days that I know I'll only be in the office, or if I'm in a more relaxed atmosphere where people are allowed to be a little more individual. Might go for the cute curly hair, and I'd add some nice jewelry that otherwise might be too "flashy". I feel comfortable rolling my sleeves up and I've probably got some cute heels on instead of nondescript neutral shoes.

Most companies I've worked for let you wear jeans on Fridays. By Friday I've probably lost a lot of sleep and so I've slept on my hair and had to do it in such a way that it isn't obvious that I have bed head. I'll usually put on a more casual short sleeved shirt, and might even do some bright jewelry so I don't feel invisible.

Yay! It's the weekend! I can stop talking like a smart, witty, graceful politician and be that girl at the bar that drinks beer, eats nachos, and burps! I can wear jeans that have some holes or have been dyed, and I can wear a t-shirt. And I can DRINK!

Then there is the Cake Betch has had a rough week or needs an excuse to drink. It's also the Cake Betch you generally get on my blog. The outrageous party say anything Cake Betch you all know and (hopefully?) love.

Any employer that doesn't want to hire ME obviously doesn't know what he or she is missing! And any employer that DOES want to hire me after reading my blog... CONTACT ME! I think we could get along fabulously.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

My Tuesdays and Thursdays are Killing Me

I am ridiculously stressed out about the month-long exam I have to complete to get into the Vis Comm program at OSU. Only 18 people get in every year and about 75 to 100 apply. I have to get in. I don't want to be any older than 30 when I'm back out in the 'real' world. I need this so bad I can taste it. Because of that I am severely stressed out. Everyone all quarter talked about how difficult the exam was, how they spent the entire month on it, bla bla bla. I've had it for 12 days (I think) and I've made progress, but I don't feel like I'm doing anything amazing or novel, which is what they're looking for. One part that is stressing me out the most - I have to explain how to change a tire on a car with no text, only drawings.



I realize I'm out of control, and I'm being ridiculous, but I can't help it. I think about the exam on the hour every hour I'm awake, and if I'm not working on it my stress level rises because I feel like I'm running out of time. When I do work on it I stress out because I feel like it has to be no less than perfect, and perfect is a pretty subjective thing when you're dealing with design.



So in order to make sure I have enough time to get this exam done, I kept to my schedule from this quarter which means I leave work at 12:30, get home at 1:00, and have the rest of the night to work on stuff for the exam. The last three weeks have been spent working on this tire problem, and this is basically how the day proceeds at one:


I get home and am optimistic, fresh, ready to draw.


I draw for about an hour. Realize that my ideas aren't very sweet and I'm not really coming up with anything new. I have to make this process make sense in a very small amount of space.


Okay, so things aren't going quite as swimmingly as I thought. That circle isn't very good, that part is confusing, how the fuck do I express with a drawing "in order to change a tire, you need these things:"?


Two or three hours have passed. I haven't made much progress and I'm still hung up on a few illustrations that just aren't performing like I want them to. I think, "This is the best I can do", then I think, "If I draw this ten more times, will it be better?" And I know the answer is yes. But I really, REALLY, don't want to draw it ten more times.


It's around this time I start inserting activities to break up the stress, to try to get back to ground zero. Anyone on my Facebook can testify to the fact that I generally don't update my status that often - except for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I start updating statuses and commenting on other people's stuff like I've OD'ed on caffeine and have absolutely nothing else to do with myself. I can't help it. I need a distraction.




Usually this fails to help me. Looming right behind me is that fucking tire changing problem. Staring at the back of my head, waiting for me to remember that I need to work on it and recommence freaking out. Eventually I get back to it.


At this point (around 8:00pm) I'm pretty well fucked. Nothing makes sense, I've already started drinking, I've eaten everything in sight (Tara eats her feelings) and have cleaned, used the bathroom, fixed my makeup, opened and closed blinds, and paced around the room more than any sane person should.


At this point I'm coiled so tightly the slightest little problem could send me into a nuclear style melt down. I'm old so my eyes have been strained from six and a half hours of drawing and looking at the computer and not only can I not see straight, I can barely draw. My eyes are literally bloodshot and focusing independently of one another. 


There is only one thing left to do in order to be able to sleep after this:


It is what it is.


I should mention today is Thursday. And it's 8:40. That should be all the more explanation you need as to why my MS Paint drawings are a little more sloppy than they normally are and nothing has been proof-read. 


The one upside is I know I'm going to be sleeping pretty soundly tonight.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Open Letter to Shamansky Real Estate Holdings

Dear Shamansky Real Estate Holdings,

I'm not even sure if you're the actual owner of these apartment buildings because they're so shitty they don't have any name, sign, or webpage. The Auditor's webpage tells me that you are the proud owner of this mark of land that God shat on to create in 1963, so this letter is addressed to you, assuming you are responsible for the maintenance and cleaning work done here.

As you may or may not have noticed, your shitty little apartment complex is totally surrounded by houses. As such you not only need to think about your own jobless / crazy cat lady / sex offender residents, you need to be considerate of everyone else on the street whenever you are doing work that could be considered a disruption.

You know what this morning was? Monday. You know what I was doing at 5:29am?
SLEEPING! Good! Reasonable too, I might add, that you would think I was SLEEPING at FIVE TWENTY NINE AM.


Okay, now guess what I was doing at 5:30am?
SURPRISE! I'm startled awake by a horde of African killer bees descending upon my house!

Wait a minute.... that isn't a horde of killer bees... that sounds an awful lot like a snowblower. Maybe if I just wait a minute it'll stop and I can fall back asleep.
HAHA! NOPE! 


So, Shamansky, I got out of bed and went into the guest bedroom to see what could possibly be making so much fucking noise and GUESS WHAT? It was your maintenance team! Scraping the sidewalks and snow-blowing SO LOUD it sounded like you were cleaning out my eardrums.

If it was that loud in my house, across the street and one house down, I can only imagine how loud it was for your residents. One of your guys had taken his snow shovel right up to the door and was scraping against it. I'm guessing the residents had been up all night drinking and hitting the crack pipe and were too far gone to hear him, because if I were living there I probably would have opened my door and punched that guy in the face.

Now don't get me wrong, I understand that the service you provide here is a totally necessary one, and frankly, I wish someone would come scrape and snow-blow my sidewalks. However, I think maybe you can understand that FIVE THIRTY A.M. might not be the most appropriate time to be performing these services.

In closing, Shamansky, I just want to let you know that I'm going to be making a trip to my local hunting supplies store to pick up a high-powered rifle.
Then, if I ever get jarred out of my bed again by the sound of a snow blower at FIVE FUCKING THIRTY A.M., instead of lying in bed wishing hell would open up and swallow your entire shit-hole apartment complex, I will instead spend my lost hour of precious sleep brushing up on my target practice.

Thank you, and fuck off, you inconsiderate ass-hat bastards,

<3 Cake Betch

Friday, December 3, 2010

Sorry I Got Fat

First off... sorry again for my disappearance. Between work, school, the holidays, and life, I have had very little time for anything. And that means the blog. The quarter just ended yesterday and all I have to do now is handle my month-long exam to get into design (Visual Communication to be exact). OSU only accepts 18 students into Vis Com per year, and between 75 and 100 apply. So I have my work cut out for me. Apparently my absence has cast doubt into your hearts because I lost a follower over the last week :-( FINE! Go! I don't need you anyway. *tear*


Anywaaaaaay. So, I'm just going to come right out and say it. I got fat. Actually, both Justin and I have gotten fat. I've known about my extra padding for quite some time now, but Justin just recently stumbled upon his own a few days before Thanksgiving. I found this in my inbox:

StinkyBritches 

 to me
show details Nov 23 
lets play, Guess how much Justin has balooned up since he started dating Tara:

You go first (keep in mind that i was 180-184 for 3 years prior to us):

Tara

 to Justin
show details Nov 23
Why do you say "since he started dating Tara" like it's my fault??

StinkyBritches

 to me
show details Nov 23
I'm enacting a state of emergency regarding all consumables.  I am on lockdown meaning it's every man for himself from now on.  I'm going to just eat soup.
And with that I was on my own. I left off how much weight he said he gained because I'm not sure how vain he is and whether or not I would be allowed to post it. Let me state for the record that Justin is 6"5. Don't you think that 180-184 for a 6"5 dude is pretty thin? Seriously, he doesn't look fat.
** UPDATE: He said I could post it. He weighs 215 now.

Thanksgiving was obviously a gut buster for us. We're both big foodies, and both our families have healthy appetites. We loooooooooooove Thanksgiving.
Justin took a picture of our refrigerator after we packed the leftovers from both dinners in. Other than the booze and the lonely smushed bottle of salad dressing everything you see is some kind of left-over.

Awesome, because I hate cooking. Not awesome for the whole diet thing, because it's all been made with about 30lbs of butter and fat. If I had to guess, I'd say I probably put on five pounds over Thanksgiving weekend. I was in a constant state of overly-full for four days.

When we first started dating we had both been working out regularly. We tried to keep running but once we moved into Columbus we got lazy. Not to mention there's so much more good food around here than there was in the suburbs, and a coffee shop (my personal kryptonite) within walking distance. Fast forward after one year of this:


So my goal is to start eating healthier, cut back on the booze, eat less, and get more exercise. I don't think I will ever be as thin as I was (at my thinnest I was surviving on a diet of cottage cheese, fruit, and shots), but I could totally stand to lose about 15lbs. Honestly I haven't weighed myself in weeks because I'm afraid I'll slit my wrists but I know where I want to be, and I'm going to guess that's about 15lbs away.

Here's the problem - I hate exercising. I know that the best thing to do is to find an activity that you enjoy so that you're having fun not exercising. But I hate playing sports. I can't always run outside and I go bonkers after 10 minutes on a treadmill. Lifting weights is boring.

I would love to try swimming because a.) I'm a good swimmer and b.) I enjoy swimming, but I'd have to join a gym or rec center to get access to a pool, and I'm not particularly wild about the idea of strangers seeing me in a bathing suit.

I also love horseback riding (which is how I lost 20 of the first 60lbs without even trying in 2005) but it is expensive. I got a card from a guy that does lessons on North American Spotted Drafts, Percherons, and Friesians. For those of you who are no horse people and have no idea WTF I'm talking about:
Percheron
Friesian
North American Spotted Draft
I just think it would be totally badass to learn how to ride a horse this massive. Then I'll make myself a warrior outfit and ride it around and hit people with a cardboard sword. 

After much giddiness and excitement though I found out the guy's stable was an hour and twenty minutes away from my house. Sad panda.

To draw a long winded, pointless, rambling blog to a close... do you exercise? And if so, what do you do? What works best for you? I need some pointers. Pointers about diet would be welcomed too.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Addition: The Ingrate Asshole

Did you ever read my blog about the different types of assholes? If not this won't make a ton of sense. You should check that out first.

And now - one of the assholes that I left out: The Ingrate Asshole

You know what I really appreciate? I appreciate it when traffic is bumper to bumper and I need to get over and someone slows down to let me over into their lane. Or someone at a red light waves and lets me make a turn in front of them onto the road. You know how I show my appreciation? A wave. It's really simple, it doesn't even have to be a wave. Sometimes I just jab my hand into the air and splay my fingers and show them my palm. It's super easy, it takes only a mere second, and I don't have to use any muscles other than the ones in my arm and voila!- I've shown that I appreciate someone being friendly and helpful.


So it really chaps my ass when I wave someone out in front of me or let someone over and they do not acknowledge what an amazing humanitarian I am. A few days ago someone did this to me - someone driving a GOLF CART.

I have to drive right through the middle of a golf course (don't ask me why they decided to split the damn thing in half with a road) to get to and from work every day. I already hate driving by golf courses because of the time a golf ball went through my dad's windshield when I was like three or four. Having glass in my hair and my mom screaming because she though I was hurt forever stamped a fear of golf courses in me.

So I'm driving and I come to a four way stop that leads to a neighborhood on either side. Since the golf course is right behind the the neighborhood it is not uncommon to see people driving their golf carts through this intersection. As I approach some older guy is sitting in a golf cart with his leg hanging off the side on the sidewalk giving me the stank eye. There was nothing wrong with his leg by the way, he was just making himself comfortable. Since he was already way ahead of me, I stop and wave at him to go ahead and cross. He continues to stare at me. I wave to him again to go ahead and cross. He continues to stare.

I wave once more. He finally sees me. Turns his head and starts to drive across the road.
Surely, this nice old man just looks like he's giving me the stank eye and is probably appreciative of the fact that this young kid has such good manners and is letting him drive his 200lb golf cart across the road at a mile per hour when instead she could have blazed through the intersection without even looking at him.

He's just going to get up to speed and then he'll wave, I'm sure.

No one is that big of a douche to not wave to someone in a car when they're driving through an intersection in a fucking golf cart in golf clothes they probably paid $500 for because they're rolling in dough and therefore think it's perfectly fucking normal to be golfing in the middle of the day on a work week.

No. Snubbed.

The next time I see that bastard driving his golf cart I'm going to wave him across the road again and when he takes off I'm going to pop the clutch and floor it at him. We'll see how smart and comfortable he feels in his fucking GOLF CART then.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Girly Survey

So I woke up this morning to discover that Goofy Girl over at There is Grandeur in this View of Life tagged me in a girly chain linky survey thing. I'm sitting under a blanket right now with my big dumb dog leaning on my arm and I'm procrastinating so that I don't have to start in on the gigantic overwhelming mound of school stuff I need to accomplish this weekend and for the next two weeks, so, here we go:


1. Why did you create the blog?
I think Goofy Girl hit the nail on the head when she said people usually start a blog because they like to write. I didn't really start my blog with the intention of it being a humor blog but it's not like anything exciting happens in my life so what the hell else am I going to write about? I do really enjoy making people laugh though, and I always love to get feedback and hear what people have to say on what I write. It's a great way to connect with people too.


2. What kind of blogs do you follow?
I think my favorite blogs typically tend to be: humorous blogs (whether they're strictly for comedy or the writer just happens to always have a good funny slant to their work), blogs about food, cake, or cupcakes, and blogs from people who have or are currently living in difficult times or have been through difficult situations. There might be one or two inspirational or otherwise random blogs thrown in there, but that generally tends to be where my interests lie. 

3. Favourite makeup brand?
Would you believe I really don't know? I know that I have been buying the same Cover Girl black eyeliner since the day I started wearing makeup (because that's the eyeliner my girlfriend used and I tried hers the first time I ever put on makeup). I'm pretty sure the eyeshadow I use is Cover Girl too, and maybe even the mascara. Honestly I don't put a whole lot of weight on the brand I'm using because I'm pretty cheap when it comes to buying makeup and if I can get it at Kroger I'm happy.


4. Favourite clothing brand? 
When you're built like me, your favorite clothing brand is whatever fits. I can tell you when I was thinner that I always looked amazing in Hydraulic jeans, but I don't know if they fit me anymore because I haven't bought a pair in a really long time and my old ones don't fit. Insert frowny face here.... I have a lot of things from American Rag that I really love. Both of those lines can be found at Macys btw. 


5. Your indispensable makeup product?

I wear eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and blush and that's it. It takes me all of three minutes to put on. If it's a special night or I know I'll be getting lots of pictures taken I will wear foundation and powder. If I could only pick one I would probably go with eyeliner.

6. Your favourite colour?
Black to wear, cerulean blue to look at.

7. Your perfume?

I find that I never like any perfumes as much as I like the smell of men's cologne. Not that I wear cologne, I just kind of boycott perfumes because I'm holding out for them to make something that makes men climb the walls like the smell of Versace or Curve does to me. That being said, I have the original Very Sexy (not the nasty 'squared' version) from Victoria's Secret. I also wanted to buy some that Kat von D makes but I didn't feel like dropping $50 bucks. Perfume will last me for YEAAARS and that Very Sexy is still half full.

8. Your favourite film?

Hmmm. Usually I say 28 Days Later. I also could repeatedly watch: Frida, Hocus Pocus, The Nightmare Before Christmas, and A Life Less Ordinary.

9. What country would you like to visit and why?

I want to go to Italy. It's been a dream for years now. I don't want to just stop in for a week either, I want to go for like a month. In three years I'll have the opportunity to travel abroad for school and I'm thinking that if the suns and moons are aligned that maybe I'll live there for a quarter or a semester or something.


10. Write the last question and answer it yourself: When are you going to start your homework?
I don't know. It's the last thing I want to do. Seeing as how this is the end of the survey I guess it'll be in the next few minutes.

And now for the part where I tag three girls, because I do not believe any of the dudes I follow would be able to fill this out in it's entirety. The first two bloggers are chicks that are regular commenters on my blog and have their own super nifty blogs that you should check out. The third is Amy from Thirty-Six Ten who I believe has commented before but I can't remember. She has a pretty sweet blog with a lot of stuff about the jewelry she makes. 


Chi-Town Southerner
[ seriously?! ]
Thirty-Six Ten 

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I'm not Dead

Just sort of close. Like zombies but without the eating and stinking. Speaking of, has anyone else been watching Walking Dead? I hear it gets pretty sad. We've been making it a weekly Sunday ritual to drive over to my cousin's house (as we have no cable) and drink beers and watch zombies and cops with skeevy-ho wives.

Anyway, I don't know if anyone cares or even noticed that I've been out for a week but if so, here's my explanation.

I've been so busy with all the things I have going on that I haven't had any time to draw funny pictures or tell funny (?) stories. Last week heralded the start of my teachers giving us our 'big' quarter-end projects. I'm totally effing swamped in school-related work. You would think that drawing would be a piece of cake class, but it kicks my ass. I always leave that class feeling like a turd and like I'm never going to get into the program. I also am really neurotic about making sure I do everything I can to get an A which can really pile the stress on since your berth for bringing the big guns to the show is much wider in an artistic field than it would be in something like Business or Math or Engineering. After this quarter and after I submit my exam I think I will be able to stop being so stressed out. Until then I have to bust my ass.

That and my dad's 60th birthday was Sunday and the week leading up to it was pretty emotional. I wrote him a sappy letter as a present and it was the most difficult thing I've done in a long time because I had to really face the reality that he isn't going to be around forever. That of course goes for my mom too but since it isn't her birthday I didn't have to think about it. There was a lot of build-up to the party and then a bit of drama afterward and a few people with hurt feelings and so on and so forth. One of my best friends got some bad news about a family member. It's been a rough week and a half and I've just been extremely emotional and haven't had any spare time to get to the blog, let alone feel like trying to be funny.

I decided to go on a no refined sugar and no cheese kick this week but it was rainy here and class was canceled (because someone called a bomb threat in on one of the buildings I'm supposed to have class in this afternoon) and the only thing I want to do right now is drive to Cup O Joe and get a coffee and sit in the window and watch it rain. Oh yeah and I can take my Mac and my cat-glasses and look like a total hipster and it'll be awesome. Can't hang out at the coffee shop without trying to look like you're artsy and an activist and doing something super awesome important for the environment or local music scene on your Mac Book Pro.

Things should be calming down here (hopefully...) in the next week or so and I should be able to get around to drawing silly stupid pictures again.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Kaiser's First Birthday

Today is Kaiser's birthday in case you didn't catch that from the headline. Justin's birthday was last Wednesday (twenty nine!) and I told him he could guest post, but that didn't end up working out. He'll get around to it one of these days. However, since Kaiser can't guest post in honor if his birthday, I'll have to do it for him.

This is Kaiser one year ago (the smaller one in the back) at approximately 3lbs:


Here is what Kaiser looks like 365 days later at 118lbs:
Taken with Justin's iPhone... so not the best quality
And just for fun...

Kaiser is the master at destroying his bed. It's almost like he doesn't want to lay on something soft. In the past year we've gone through more towels, blankets, quilts, papasan cushions, and pillows than I'd care to count. Recently he's been sleeping with a mattress cover and a bath mat. The bath mat - since it is coated on the underside with plastic - has stood up fairly well but sheds hair all over. The blanket in his cage has been there for about two weeks.

Justin took the following picture yesterday:

What? What is that?


It's Kaiser! And he's torn a hole through his blanket AND managed to get it wrapped over his head. Justin took some video so we can better remember one more in a long line of Kaiser's blanket-victims.



Notice that a.) he still has some of the evidence caught in his big floppy dog lips and b.) he is unable to stand.

That's all I got for you. If you're interested there are more stupid videos that Justin has posted of us and Kaiser that you can check out here. Happy Monday!

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Tara Falls to the Sneaky Hate Spiral

Do you know what a sneaky hate spiral is? If you don't, you should just take yourself right over to  Sneaky Hate Spiral at Hyperbole and a Half. I almost hate to drop that link because those of you that I have tricked into thinking I am at all funny are immediately going to break up with me for Hyperbole. There is no funnier collection of blogs to be found. Once you have read that, then you'll understand mine.

The day was immediately terrible because I woke up 50 minutes late, so I had exactly 40 minutes to get ready, which is only enough time to get ready on days I don't have to wash my hair. Today was a day that I had to shower because I hadn't washed my hair... in three days. I'm a busy girl, don't judge. That's an extra hour and I just don't always have enough time in the day to look foxy. This means I'm going to be late for work, and I haaaaate being late. Hate it.

So I hop in and out of the shower and quick blow my hair dry. I don't have much time to spend on it and I haven't dyed it in a while, so not only is it flat, it is all wonky and my bangs are flipped out Farrah Fawcett style. I am irritated but can't do anything about it now.

I actually  make pretty good time to work... until the last stretch of road. Some woman in an old car puts her blinker on and slides in front of me, almost clipping my bumper. I briefly considered laying on my horn until her ears bled, but thought better of it. She then proceeds to drive ten miles under the speed limit in front of me. Remember my post about the different types of assholes? This asshole decided to take it to the city streets. Asshole.

I finally pull into work and park, and then I get to struggle with the 30lbs worth of computer bag, lunch bag, and planner I need to carry in with me. I should mention that I have a Judas spine that regularly goes out on me. It's been out for about three days, which means I can't move at all without entering my own personal hell of excruciating pain. Trying to navigate out of the car (which sits really low) with all my bags in tow is no easy feat, and I'm almost in tears as I squirm out.

I had a sweater in the trunk that I wanted to take inside so it was warm when I left for school later, so I struggle around to the back of the car and pop the truck.

 I drive a hatchback, and it is supposed to open hydraulically, then stay open. It's also pretty damn heavy. Without paying much attention I toss it up and lean in to grab my sweater. Then I discover the hydraulics aren't working anymore when the hatch slams down on my head, pushing me halfway into the car.

It is at this point I lose my fucking shit. I went from irritated to insane in about two seconds. Not only do I start spewing a string of expletives, I push it back into the air and then start punching the underside of the hatch. The last punch I threw knocked out a cover for my tail lights.

I recover pretty quickly, but not quickly enough, and then I close the trunk and look around to see if any of my coworkers just saw me go schizophrenic on the hatch of my car before walking in to start the day.

Something tells me I may need to take some yoga to relieve all the stress I've been under from school lately.

Oh who am I kidding. I'm just going to drink.