I don't feel good today. I have some kinda weird ear thing. It seriously sounds as if there is a helicopter inside my brain flying around in circles. I thought at first it was just a real plane flying overhead that somehow used its flying force thing that planes have to mess with me. But then it happened three times and I'm sorry the Chester County airport just does not have that much business.
The ear thing then gave me a headache and a chest pain thing, so I hope this isnt the coming of a nice overdue sickness. I have been super healthy for the past year and it would figure that when I do get sick it is bad. I am gonna wake up tomorrow and feel just dandy, because I have to go to work tomorrow.
Speaking of work- why is it that I have spent most of my paychecks on clothes? Clothes- to wear to work. I spend most of my waking hours in black pants and some kind of shirt to hopefully match. I have scoured high end quality stores such as TJ Max, Ross, Marshalls, and just about every other store in the mall's clearance rack for said shirts. Because I refuse to pay over 20 dollars for any piece of clothing that is to be worn to work. I found some awesome ones- like a tie-dye tank top for 5 bucks- yep I said it- tie-dye- I wear it to work! Buisness casual sucks. I rebel against it in my tie-dye shirts and tank tops and open toed sandals. Yep that's me- a regular rebel at work!
There is absolutely nothing casual about black pants that seem to get every spec of dust and cat hair in the world stuck on them. Jeans. I miss my jeans. I love Fridays. Jean Fridays. And whatever shirt I want. It doesnt have to go with black pants. And cat hair doesnt stick to jeans.
We have these really heavy boxes of certificate holders at work. Don't ask, just go along. I asked the guy whose job it is to keep track of things like these boxes and cases of paper and such to bring some of them up. They seriously weigh at least half my body weight. And I am what you would call "petite" which is just a fancy word for short. So lifting these heavy boxes isnt something my arms want to do. So last week I ordered them like a good girl and told him to bring them to my desk. Which he did not. This guy seems to have trouble with any type of direction. More on that sometime later. So he brings them to the copy room, which isnt far. But far enough. And then he puts them on a shelf! So Mister "I can lift heavy things because I am a guy and that's what guys do" puts them on the 2nd shelf. Which again isnt that high. So I had to get it down and back to my desk. And it turned into this episode of the Three Stooges. But in this case it was just one Stooge and that Stooge was me.
I proceeded to then lift the box off the shelf and directly onto my foot. Then I hopped. Literally hopped because for some reason you hop when you hurt your foot. And of course I couldnt lift it so I had to push it to my desk. I would push with my arms when no one was around. And when people could see me I pushed with my good foot. My good foot. Geez. Eventually I got it to my desk. And then I had to work. Ew.
Well enough of my boring life. I am going to try and figure out if there is a helicopter in my head.
