Your Village Called Asshole

My day started out pretty good. Granted my night was not that enjoyable considering I could not sleep due to me getting a muscle spasm about every hour in my leg. But, I survived and managed to get up on time for work and to get to work on err...let's just say by my standards on time. (*Meaning that I was five...um...okay okay ten fucking minutes late.) Damn it I just can't lie to you. I even remembered to bring my iPod charger to work so that I do not have to listen to Smooth Jazz 105.9. I was thinking you are on a roll today. Up early, dressed, smelling good, the hair could use a little help but it's not like I work with a bunch of beauty queens, car has gas, charger in hand, lunch in hand, cock in hand...(my bad that was yesterday). So as you can see I was headed toward a Strawberry Whorecake kind of day. All roses, hearts, pink glitter sparkles, and hot gay action...(yeah that was yesterday too).

Then I get to work on time and things are running smoothly. I talk to some people. Have a few laughs and get prepared for the day. I talk to Cheri because her mom just left to go back to Taiwan for a month and we start discussing our voyage to Taiwan this year. Then the phone call comes.

I will not go into the whole conversation. Let's just say that I did my part and the company did not do theirs. I am told that a fax did not make it to this company because their fax was out of paper. Is that my fault? Oh I'm sorry I am totally going to talk about the conversation details. Scratch the second sentence. So, I am asked to re-fax the papers over that are needed. No problem "supposedly certified office worker fax whore." I'm right on it. Actually I would be right on your neck with a rusty spoon if I had it my way for all the confusion and arguing you put me through this morning. So, I proceed to re-fax the papers to "supposedly certified office worker fax whore" and it goes through! Yay! All is good. Then the second phone call comes. Oh shit dejavu. Or was that a mini stroke?

SCOWFW: "Could you re-fax that one more time our fax machine jammed?"

Internal Sensai: "Breath. You are so above this. You are over it. You can kill her when you go to their office on Friday. Jam her hair into the fax machine and push send. No to suspicious. Jam her hands into the fax machine. Priceless. Then she can never dial the phone again."

I play jolly and send it. But, the point of the whole fucking story is that I hate when idiots fuck up my natural high for the day. Now, I am frustrated and pissy. I just can't let it go. I know she did it for spite that evil fax whore. Revenge will be mine.

Oh someone else just had a run in with diaster. My boss! He is pissed. I guess my ability to transfer things mentally isn't just my own bit of make believe.

I have a super power now! Yippy!