The lot is cast into the lap, but the decision is the Lord’s alone. – Proverbs 16:33 (NRSV)
“Life’s a box of chocolates, you never know which one you’re gonna get.” – Forrest Gump
I actually used to have a tapestry like this- only it was of cats playing poker- when I lived in Downtown Columbus. It covered up some old plaster imperfections in the wall. From the looks of me lately I could use something like this to cover up more than plaster imperfections.
Holy shit, I’m looking old.
Even though I look every flipping second of my age and then some, I went to school with some people who look a hell of a lot worse than I do. Some of them look better than me too, but that makes sense. By and large, the golden people tend to stay that way.
I was never, ever, ever, one of the golden people.
I know, comparison isn’t very fair and isn’t really very comforting, especially when I realize that if I let the hair color go and didn’t bother to do makeup I’d likely be mistaken for deranged or even dead. I didn’t come from a particularly affluent part of the world, either, and many of my cohorts are even poorer than I am. Poverty does not do much for one’s appearance or outlook. As the saying goes, money may not buy happiness- but it can buy you the misery you like the best.
I guess if it is rumored to be shitty it must be funny.
Speaking of all things shitty, I remember all too well there’s a holiday weekend coming up which means I will have lazy asses goldbricking at my expense even more than normal. “Skippy” as I like to call him -because even when he does show up at work he comes in late, wanders off for hours at a time, and has the balls to leave early to go to Every. Single. One. of his 17 year old son’s baseball games (and he’s not the coach) has got to be the laziest man on earth. Anyway, Skippy has managed to take his level of apathy and work avoidance even higher by taking off Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend- probably to watch even more freaking baseball.
I can think of so many more things I’d rather do.
Granted, he doesn’t do anything when he is at work, so why do I care? I’m already doing his job as it is. I guess I’m just pissed because he’s getting paid for not doing shit. I am getting a bit of entertainment as he is trying to train his buddy (who has the IQ of paint) to be as adept at shirking work as he is.
Yes, I am burned out. Crispy. Fried. Smoked.
I am so tired of how stupid people can be. It might be because of the stupidity I encounter at work, and yesterday was especially choice given that I was horribly sick most of the day. Of course I couldn’t just leave because we are (as always) short staffed and one of the guys (as usual) had a child care issue. So screw me sideways again. It’s good I am not a frequent puker, and that I didn’t have the screaming shits.
I’ve been called many things in my life, and a good many of them derogatory. I always thought “gifted but an underachiever,” was a funny one, as the only ones who ever used that descriptive were math teachers who couldn’t understand why I was doing good to get a “B” or “C” in math when I pretty much slept through everything else and got straight “A”s.
Math was the only subject I actually studied for, and I still sucked at it. I love it when people just assume that if you’re good at one thing then you’re slacking if you suck at something else.
If they thought I sucked at math, they should have watched me attempt team sports.
I suck at sports like no one has ever sucked before. Except swimming, but that’s just for personal exercise.