As the prostitute once said "It's not the work it's the stairs". Thus another line I want embossed on my tombstone. At the rate I'm going my tombstone is going to be the size of the Washington monument. - this has no relation to this post other than it make me laugh.
I got the absolutely worst thing pop up on my Facebook timeline.
I mean the worst.
One of those things that makes you makes you go to bed with a cold compress and turn off the phone. Where you call in sick to work and stay in your fat pants and call for delivery for your meals.
It's time for my ten year high school reunion.
What genius came up with that idea?
I mean I have Facebook I know who got fat, who went to rehab, and who died. Can't we all just glance at each others pictures in the privacy of our own homes with out going through those awkward conversations and panicked glances of desperation?
Now don't get me wrong I did have some truly amazing moments and friends in high school but to be honest I went to school with some tremendously horrid people that I do not want to have to deal with ever again.
I'd much rather donate my money to a literary program than listen to some bore prattle on about how in a drunken moment of passion he knocked up someone and now being a parent is a truly marvelous thing. Or I got my doctorate in I'm better than you at Berkley oh and what are you doing with your life...oh you are working the mammography front desk how provincial. I will be the one at the refreshment table inhaling cookies and praying for the moment when I can go home and put on my fat pants (It will be summer so scratch that shorts.) and trying to be witty and funny. I'm already praying they will have good cookies.
Oh yes. Its coming.
I'm not emotionally strong enough to go back to that mind cluster of fun.
Yet its okay. Really.
I'll help in anyway that I can. I will contact people if they haven't heard. Sure why not? I've got the time at work.
It might be enjoyable.
Either way y'all are going to hear about it.