Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

New Year's and Annoying Foreign Offices

So. Despite my pleas for people I know that read this to keep their big mouths shut while I was venting about my husband the other day. Someone, JASON, had to go blab to him.

Ya'll. I vent here. I write things that I cannot tell people in real life because they are selfish and petty and horrifying. If I wanted my husband to feel bad about the whole gift thing, trust me, I could make him feel bad.

But I didn't. Which is why I wrote it here and did not just roll over one night and start talking.

On the bright side, he did buy me this gorgeous fairy tale book yesterday.
I am one of the few people in the damn country at work today. Which made my commute lovely. But still. Its annoying to be here and have things to do when no one else is working.

Besides, people that I work with in other countries are being assholes. And its not even 9 am yet.

Basically I have yelled at my email three times this morning--forgetting that I was at work and that is really not appropriate. And, in a thought that would really send me to hell, I sort of wished that this place had been hit by a tsunami. Only for a second! And I totally take it back! Sort of.


Even though I am an asshole too.
So. New Years. MEH.

I am not really a New Year's person. There is just so much pressure to have the BEST TIME EVER that no one ever really seems to enjoy it.

The bars are crowded and the drinks are way overpriced. And after the holidays I am in no mood to have a party. And neither is anyone else. And God knows no one wants to drive with the wackos on the road. Plus the cops that are on hyper patrol so you have to drive five miles under the speed limit.

So we aren't doing anything. Maybe playing poker. Maybe watching movies. Probably drinking large amounts of red wine (me).

It actually sounds about perfect to me. Even though I am well aware that admitting it officially makes me a member of the Old People's Hall of Fame.

Oh well. At least it is cute when us old ladies swear like sailors.

8:00 a.m. :: comment ::
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