Takin' a Break

Here's the Way It Is.

1. It's 105 outside and I just got back from laying out. I truly am not kidding about how much I love dry heat. I started the day getting cussed at and the tone really didn't change so like any sane person, I went to the pool for a very long lunch.

2. I love Bruce Springsteen more than anyone else in the world. I love him more than I love Coffee Man. 22 and I are going to see him in the skybox that my company has. While I have concerns about what 22 decides to wear, I've decided to lay off and let her be her sweet, accidentally overtly sexy self. She's one of those girls who's naturally full of s-e-x but then she also accentuates it with mini-skirts and big hair.
You know, not like me and my friends did when we were 22.
We were so subtle and shy.
After Bruce, we are going to go street skating in Tempe.
I can not think of a better night. Not even in my wildest, Coffee-Flavored Dreams.

3. I had to tell my friend that I did mind if her husband went to skating tonight. She doesn't skate when he's there. She complains and then goes to make sure he's okay.
Okay with what?
With the DJ?
Did he get dehydrated in the last 45 minutes?
Did his corner lose in that game they play to se who can stay on the floor the longest?
What could possibly be wrong with someone after one hour of a familiar activity that you need to check on him every ten minutes?
I've realized that I sort of mind if she goes, too. She asks about a hundred times where all the money from the League goes and she thinks there's something fishy about skaters not getting paid. I've tried to address this in every way you can think of, from laughing it off to explaining over and over all the stuff that goes into MAINTAINING A FUCKING SPORTS LEAGUE.
No dice.
She really believes someone is getting the shaft.
The next time it comes up, I am telling her to join the gd finance committee if she really thinks something is wrong.
She'll tell me that she can't because she hates math.
I can't take any one else's stress today. I really did spend the entire morning getting unloaded on, by people who's I am working to get paid.
I am the last person in the world to be yelling at.
This girl is a self-professed stress-ball and I am not arguing with her. A two hour phone call with her the other night was me repeating myself, "You have to know why you want it." "Maybe you don't have time." "I know for myself, what is true." If I could put this onto a tape and play it, along with some heavy sighs and affirmative grunts for the car ride to skating, I would totally do it.
I can't take more stress and plus, a solution like that would leave me free to daydream about a threesome with Bruce and Coffee and a hot tub.

4. I've reverted to by original Mean Girl nature and have found myself in a pack at work. While I love it because we have a target and I.....
hate her.
I also feel a little bit bad for hating her. I've got my reasons for this and I'm not sharing them. I tried so hard to not want to stab her when she talks to me but so far, I've failed and she hasn't taken the hint that mayhap she would want to hear what I have to say about all the accounts that were mine before I got PROMOTED and she took my OLD JOB.
The thing is that she sets herself up to be a target and I can't help it if I am not the only one who thinks so. Those of us who feel the same about her have banded into a little pack.
Why do I hate her?
She puts on airs and that would not be a problem for her if she actually was what she purports to be. Which is an expert on everything who grew up in a privileged, industry-heavy perfect Southern California home and who now has a spread in a chic part of town and preternatural expertise in all areas of my industry... although she's never ever worked in this part of it before.
The chick has TERRIBLE manners and she lives in a trailer.
Don't show it off if it can't stand up. Nobody here cares; everyone has seen my shit-hole hovel and a few people told me it's cute. They all know about the lady who lives on the Southside. My company isn't like that and it's been long enough for her to figure out that snobbery isn't going to get her very far.
So The Pack has turned on her, which is wont to happen if you act the way she acts and your act is clearly.... well, an act.
If she would just put her boobs under clothing in such a way as they didn't hang out of the top of her shirt all the time, I might step off a little.
But for now..... I'm fine being a Mean Girl.
The main difference between now and like elementary school is that Mean Girls don't act out toward you now. We just wait to see what you're going to do with all that rope you have in your cube.
And totally give you more if you insist.
When you hang yourself?
I'll be there to smirk confidently and say, "Wow. I would never have expected that to happen," even though I knew it was going to go down all along.
This might be problem later and it might not.
Stay tuned.
If this was The Real World, my confessionals about her would be hilarious and America would hate me.

5. I'm going to be gone a lot for work over the next week and may not be able to write very much.
I know.
It might feel like it, but the world is not ending.
I, however; I need a minute to myself.
It is finally hot outside and the Back in the Day Buffet is jamming all of my favorite Old Skool hip hop songs and so I need to be at the pool, soaking up as much as I can before I am driven back inside by monsoon humidity and a renewed ability to endure aggravation for extended periods of time with no break.
This bodes well for you if you nervously check this website to see if you are the target of any antics.
If not, email me or something because I'll be on the road, and not in a fun, kind of rock-star way.

arizonasarah at 2:32 p.m.

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