I was fully intending on posting something charming and funny today, even started writing a cheerful little thing or two before work, but then I had the worst day of all time (I may be slightly exaggerating) and came home to try to finish that sweet-as-sugar post and was like "Aaarrggh too happy, and deleted everything I had written this morning in a fit of pique."
So now you are all getting this post, which is bitter and crotchety. DEAL WITH IT. (Sorry, bad day.)
What happened was this.
I got to work at eight like normal and checked my calendar. And realized I had a five hour meeting from 9 til 2. And then I banged my head on the side of my cube a little until the very nice lady that sits next to me asked me to stop.
When nine'o'clock rolled around I hobbled (I am very sore because my new personal trainer is evil and thinks lunges and squats are just the most divine way to spend an evening apparently) to the conference room and planted my butt in a chair for what I thought would be the next five hours.
And then I sat and listened to some dude (who was very smart and probably a perfect gentleman) talk about 'asset valuation' and 'impairment basis' for nine hours, without stopping, thru lunch, past going-home time, for nine hours.
This is what I did for those nine hours.
Today's Inner Monologue (brought to you by that horrible color you get when you mix all of the other colors together and the letter F)
Hour One: "You know what, this won't be so bad, you woke up on the correct side of the bed today, you can smile your way through this."
Hour Three: "Pay Attention, Pay Attention, Tax Accounting, Pay Attention."
Hour Four: May have accidentally gotten lost in a fantasy where I attended a Maroon Five concert in high school and then Adam Levine fell in love with me and then I was his muse and my name was Jane and all of the songs on the album "Songs About Jane" were about me, because of the muse thing.
Hour Five: "Fifty-two more minutes. Thirty-seven more minutes. Twenty-two more minutes. Six more minutes."
Hour Six: "NO MORE MINUTES, NO MORE MINUTES, STOP TALKING, WHAT THE EFF."
Hour Seven: "Don't try to sway me with your cockeyed arguments. It is impolite to even consider murder LAUREN."
Hour Eight: Taking notes with left hand and writing things like "bubble gum" and "my lovely lady lumps" instead of accountingy things to see if anyone would notice.
Dear Lord I Hope My Boss Does Not Ask To See My Notes Tomorrow. This Would Be Much Worse Than The Cottage Cheese Incident.
And then I got home and the first thing Ryan (who had the day off today) said to me was, "You know I watched how long it took you to get down the block today after you left for work. I don't think you can tell people you walk to work anymore. What I saw this morning was more like crawling standing up."
So that was my day blogstalkers. What did you do today? Something lovely I hope.