A fairy tale

Once upon a time there lived a dame. We shall name her Jane. Jane worked in an office with a bunch of other people, including the most-annoying-coworker-ever (mace). Mace was really really really getting on Jane's nerves, like big time. Jane really wasn't sure how much more of Mace's antics she can take. Jane may or may not have been kind of in a way held sort of against her will in the parking lot of her work by Mace for 2 whole hours. It's hard to really describe the events without disclosing too much information in this fictional story about fictional people in a fictional land far far away. Suffice it to say that Jane was completely unnerved by the experience, and now Mace no longer works in Jane's office!

Jane, being the sensitive girly girl that she is, feels somewhat responsible for the fact that Mace no longer works where Jane does. Jane hates to make people sad. But Jane hates being creeped out even more. And creeped out Jane was. Jane is very happy she won't have to deal with Mace, but is feeling really really guilty at the same time. Jane is a really complicated kind of dame.

The end. . .

Pollyana

I came to a startling conclusion last night. I am Anne of Green Gables, or Pollyana. . .only with more sarcasm. I want everything to be rainbows and butterflys. I am shocked frankly. I didn't realize I was so, well, girly I guess. And emotional. And, dare I say, pathetic?! I thought I was jaded, rugged, worldly, and wise. Yeah, maybe not so much. UGH. The truth hurts.

More on this later my dear blogging peeps.

I.am.so.tired

Hell yeah, I'm still here. I am just so. very. tired. I was tired before we left (so much drama at my work, I can't even tell you), then we went to Cowpoke country to visit Candace and family this last weekend. Candace and her super duper cool girlfriends (HILARIOUS TOO) and I went out drinkin' on Friday night. We got home at around 2 A.M. Yes, 2 in. the. morning. And we all had a autism class to attend the next day. Holy crap. I drank 4 margaritas on the rocks and laughed until my sides hurt watching the drunk residents of Cowpoke boogie down to a 80's cover band. I felt like I was at a family reunion, only these cowpokes were dressed better than my family could ever dream of. Candace and I were asked to dance by a VERY drunk patron would informed us that he was the best catch in the casino that night. We declined, even after that great pick up line, and then he asked what our last name was. WTF? Candace said it was the same as our husbands, so our answer was still no. That confused him for a minute and then he decided it was a good enough answer for him and stumbled away. Damn it, why do we have to be married when there are so many fish in the sea?

We also had the pleasure of watching an incredibly good-looking couple gyrating and rubbing up against each other on the dance floor, song after song. If there isn't a baby born in 9 months after those dances it'll be a damn miracle. I admired their longevity frankly. As well as their ability to not go out and consummate their union in the back of their pick-up truck. I don't know for sure that they were driving a pick-up, but I imagined they came rolling in sporting a dinged up beauty with a gun rack holding a snow brush in the back window and a tie down strap holding the passenger door shut. Yeah, some of my cousins may or may not drive a truck like that, why do you ask?

Anyway. . . boy howdy, let me tell you, nursing a killer hangover on barely any sleep is not much fun at the ripe old age of 38. AND then having to go to an training about autism and look like you didn't come rolling in at 2 AM is no easy feat either. And I am still recovering. Every night this week I have in bed snoring by 7 P.M. Oh dear God in Heaven, it's 9:06 PM, I gotta go to sleep. No wonder I am yawning my face off trying to write this post! 9:06 PM people. Very. Late. How pathetic am I?

It was all worth it though, I had a great time, I can't remember the last time I was out that late, drank that much, or laughed that hard. All night. It was AWESOME. And I will do it again as soon as I can stay up past 9:30 PM again. It may take me 6 months, but I WILL kick this damn hangovers ass.