Dear Mrsatroxi,

So this whole work thing? Stinks. It stinks bigger than a stinky stink. My tummy is tied in knots, my hands are sweaty and my legs are shaky. And I’m not even at work today. And the whole thing really has nothing to do with me!

But today I actually did something pro-active and I feel a little better. I called someone about another job. Much longer commute, much less crazy people. Much happer mrsatroxi? Remains to be seen. (By which I mean that is still a future occurrence, not that my remains are anywhere on display. Ew.)

My business venture!!!!! Is still not finished!!!! But I am assured by atroxi, web designer extraordinaire, that it will be up and running this weekend. (And if I post this, and thus bring massive pressure to bear, it will be. Done, I mean.) So….now you have a small clue as to what it is! Maybe.

Posting forthcoming!

I hate my job, I hate my job I hate my job.

Not ever really my most favorite thing, but having learned some very bad and deeply disappointing things about a person (hell is other people), I can now say I truly hate my job.

And I am looking towards Monday with a dread so deep it makes my gorge rise.

Anybody want to hire me? I can supply lots of adjectives pertaining to me, either negative or postive, as you wish. Anybody? No? Ah, well. That’s that, I suppose.

Sooo….

I broke one, possibly two of my toes Wednesday night.

No, no drunken stupor or punches from hubby, I didn’t kick anything in unholy anger.

I just stumbled after bending over to pick up dirty clothes (that I put on the floor, so I can’t even blame anybody else for that) and slammed my footie into the stairs that some moron put right next to the bathroom. (There, I blamed somebody else for something. I feel better now.)

Do you ever get the idea from reading this journal that I’m just a wee bit accident prone?

Sigh.