The boss man eats the same sandwich from Jimmy Johns every time. #1, wheat bread, light mayo. Due to a SIGNIFICANT decrease in service level from our local store, I have recently begun to go get them myself vs. using their “Freakishly Fast” service…Which they are not! It is faster and less expensive and I get a break from the office. It’s just better this way.
I ran to get a couple of sammies for a new hire and training team. After I pulled into the parking spot, I realized I should have asked HMFIC if he needed lunch. I checked my email for the usual emailed request and didn’t see anything. Ya know….I am just going to get him one anyway. How awesome am I going to look when I happen to have just what he wanted the moment he wanted it? SO GOOD!
When I got back to the office, I noticed his car wasn’t there. I walked in and the lights were off in his office. OH that’s right! He and the sales team were on site at clients.” I checked his calendar and he wasn’t back due back until after 1:30pm. He never eats that late.
I enjoyed my free lunch while I made travel and accommodation arrangements, sent virtual meeting requests and ordered the cakes for the company event next week. The team arrived back and came through the front door all smiles from a successful trip. I welcomed them back and told the big wig there was a FedEx package on his desk; needing to be sent off today after his signature. He said “Great! Oh hey….can you get me a sandwich?”
I popped the last bite in my mouth, grabbed my purse and headed out. Damn…..
Our friends reached out to see if we had plans for the evening. They were on their way to a bowling event later, but wanted to know if we could meet for drinks beforehand. We decided on one of our favorite spots downtown and enjoyed their company for a bit.
Apparently it had been a while so they were really looking forward to meeting up with their league; and asked us if we were interested in bowling. I said that my wrist had been bugging me so we should pass. They said that I didn’t have to bowl. It was a great group, so I could just hang out and watch. I said I had worn the wrong outfit to be sitting around a bowling alley, so again, we were going to pass. I noticed the time and suggested that if they were going to have enough time with their friends, we’d better let them get to it.
Hubz…..ABSOLUTELY CLUELESS to the body language and conversation going on around him, suggested that we go upstairs for more conversation and drinks. I asked Hubz as I turned around, “What are you doing? Why are you trying to keep them from getting on with their evening?” He obviously thought I was having a conversation with myself as he proceeded to guide us onto the escalator and up to another bar. Our friends must have misunderstood what was going and agreed to tag along. Realizing that they weren’t going to be able to convince us to join them at the alley, they said they’d better get going. DUH! And right back down the escalator we went. I was so embarrassed.
This had happened one other time. Hubz KNOWS I am submissive when it comes to group activities (unless of course it is my birthday). Last time he let the entire table take turns trying to convince me to do something that I have shot down 6 times already; IN THE SAME CONVERSATION. This morning I asked why he didn’t support me. I got a shit ton of “I don’t know.” And “I thought….” How could you not know when I am saying it over and over and over?
I explained to him my disappointment that he had fallen down on the job twice now. If he wasn’t going to pay enough attention to me to, AT THE VERY LEAST know I am not interested in any after party activities; I was going to have to take the lead.
Next time anyone repeat request is made I am going to stand up, grab Kate and declare “I have already told you NO, now I am going to leave. SHE’s coming with me!. Come along dear.”
For the low price of $75 a head, we were given a ticket to “SHIT SHOW!” by, American Airlines.
I needed to GTFO out of Corpus ASAP. 2 hours sooner was available, for a fee….sure..whatever…did you not see the ASAP?!?
Loaded in the little rocket bound for a city you CAN see on a map, we were on our way; And this is where it gets good. For the connection, we are on standby (not sure what the fee was for, It’s not like it costs all that much to print another ticket with the new details.) Having never done anything but a guaranteed seat, I learned a lot about the standby puzzle.
You don’t have a seat until every one is on board.
You can’t get on board until the crew is on board
The crew cannot get on board unless they are actually there.
So we wait. The other plane landed, the crew arrived (well most of them), plan was loaded, head count taken, standbys assigned, all is seated and we wait. Seems all the ASSIGNED crew members were needed; and they wouldn’t allow us to take off with the “band aid” they used for boarding.
We waited and waited and waited. Then a disheveled lady hurries aboard, dumps her shit in a cubby and picks up where the other left off in the safety demonstration. Seated in an exit row, we needed to agree to perform all the action required to get out of the plane first. She explained that a verbal confirmation was required from each of us. It was so important that she woke up my neighbor for his “i do’s”
After she turned around I whispered to my other neighbor, that I’d like a little verbal confirmation myself “oversleep?”. Mid giggle, beefcake’s eyes got super wide and he mumbled ” I think she heard you….”
My weight, the number that is, does not matter to me. I am sure I have added and gained regularly, but I have bought the same size clothes for 3 years. As long as the number on my jeans does not increase, I am all good. The only time I see a scale is when I go to the doctor. We all know that the ONLY weight that can be recorded is first thing in the morning, after you pee…BUTT NAKED. There is no way the doctor’s scale correct, so I don’t even bother looking. I don’t have room in my day for such useless knowledge 🙂
I bought some jeans at Old Navy a month or so ago…and they felt kinda big. I thought it would be no big deal after I washed them and put on a belt. Unfortunately, to keep them in place required the belt to be so tight across my waist that it was the only thing that stayed in place. The jeans still slipped down and hang by the loops. Since we have already discussed my hell fire “condition”; I am sure you can imagine after a day at work, it looks like I got chub rub from hula hooping.
So I decided to grab a pair in a size smaller. Low and behold….they fit much better. Sweet mother of God. I don’t care if this is a world wide marketing ploy… I have quite a skip in my step just thinking about how long it has been since I have seen this number on denim.
When I turned 40, I was in Hawaii with 17 of my favorite people. It thought it was the best vacation I have ever had. That is until I came home; and realized I brought the Hawaiian heat with me. Since the moment the wheels touched the landing strip, I have been on fire. Intensified with any activity…including breathing.
It wasn’t SO bad the first few months. I re-discovered my love of dresses. Which meant I could wear just one article and clothing; allowing for maximum air flow. I also felt sexy as fuck, so it was a win win.
When one of the best jobs I had ever had came to an end, I ended up at the bottom of the employment pit and worked in a machine shop for the next 11 months. To my horror, there were no open toe shoes allowed on the plant floor. Since my body thermostat is in my big toe, this happened to be one of the few tricks that worked for self air-conditioning. We also had no paging or instant messaging on the property so I was constantly on the move; hitting 10K by lunch. Soon I was limited to only wearing black shirts because my pits looked like they were sobbing. Like every sweat gland just got dumped.
Thankfully, before I lost any more bras to underwire rust, they asked me to please not return to work. My first thought was not one of “Oh shit I just got fired!” but “I never have to spend another minute in this sweat shop!”. I made it back to the world of air-conditioning. Sun-dresses and sandals, including December. It is heaven 🙂
Because the universe continues to require payment for all the shit I got away with in my 20’s, the dial has turned up. I am confident I am now running at a continuous 102 degrees. I perspire a bit on my back just going to the kitchen to refill my coffee; and don’t even get me started on the workout worthy sweat that I get refilling the office snacks. My desk fan is less than 10 inches from my body at all times; and turned to high so I look like I am at a photo shoot.
We got a down comforter so I could sleep with the window open and not turn Hubz into a Popsicle. I have a piece of tissue covering me and I still wake up to a cup of sweat under my tits. I spray dry antiperspirants on my like it was bug repellent and threaten to wear a bikini to work if any one touches the thermostat.
If this is just the beginning of menopause, I’m screwed.
I have wanted to make a sexy time play list. Hubz and I have the exact opposite in music tastes, which is what has been cause the delay. I found a song a while ago; but looping that over and over and over is counterproductive.
You can’t just type in “sexy music either” ; so I decided to use the first year of high school. There were some good jams in middle school, but that will only remind me of crying my eyes out on the top bunk because Kenny Studebaker wouldn’t “go” with me. I spent the whole afternoon on the couch searchin iTunes. I ended up downloading Madonna, Genuine, High 5, Firehouse and Marc Anthony.
On a trip up north the next day, I took over as DJ; to give Hubz a taste of what’s to come. I asked him to listen to the music and imagine what we would be doing. Kissing? Foreplay? Ripping clothes off? He had a look on his face like he smelled a fart and said “I can’t think of anything!” WHAT?!? I have personally grooved with many many men on the dance floor to these songs. I know for a FACT they are sexy!
Just to prove him wrong, I came to bed that night with my phone and the Bose speaker. I fired up the playlist and hit shuffle. Wouldn’t you know it, he was right. I spent a lot of time skipping to the next song cause they were all so fucking annoying.
I guess I am going to have to record some from porn.
There is a game I have been playing for the past 4 years; It is called Gems with Friends. Free game that takes 2 minutes to play each round and there are rounds against your opponent. After the winner is named, you have the chance to request a rematch.
When you first get started, if you don’t already know someone playing, you send a request to start a game with a random opponent. Depending on the skill level match you, you can gather a regular group of players.
I found myself playing Jeep, Butterflyhotte8965, Jugglingmom , Teemcp and Tnlonest*r quite often.
Occasionally I would look at the leadership board. This is where you find out weekly how you are standing against all the players in the game. I wasn’t doing too bad….advancing up occasionally. Last week I noticed I placed just under the best player in the game…Butterflyhotte8965. WOW! I am kicking ass and taking names. I scrolled down to see where the rest of my friends fell; and got to the bottom of the list almost immediately. In one screen shot they were all listed. Just me and my friends. I went to the games Facebook page and saw the last post was in 2014. We seem to be the last 6 people playing this game……IN THE WORLD!!
The other day, I made my first in-ap purchase. I had run out of coin and needed to buy more in order to buy more lucky hearts to play Teemcp for the win. I bet the owners of the game were shocked when they got a notice that they had a purchase. The service fees for the account were probably more than my $2.99.
If anyone is reading this…..send help……GEMS with FRIENDS!