Things I Need to Get Off My Chest

Aside from your hands or your creepy wayward glances.  They can stay.

I worked 11 hours today.  I realize this is a regular occurrence for many people, and that some people work much more than that, even.  I'm a wimp, though, so I'm totally wiped out right now.  It didn't help that I started the work day at 7:30 in the morning and ended it at 9:30 at night.  Oh and I walk about 3/4 of a mile each way to both my jobs.  And one job involves constant standing.  And I forgot to wear socks because it was warm this morning, so the walk home was very cold.  Until it was just numb and kind of like walking with miniature ice floes attached to your ankles where your feet should be.

On the way home, I tripped over a crooked piece of sidewalk that was lurking under a pile of leaves.  I came so close to eating it, and I'm pretty sure people on the other side of the street saw it.  It was pretty graceful and cool looking.

What was even cooler, though, was the very subtle act of public urination I witnessed shortly prior to almost eating it.  This car was stopped at a red light and just before the light changed, the passenger door opened ever so slightly.  Then the car sped away.  It was then that I noticed the passenger had placed a clear plastic soda cup, complete with lid and straw, on the ground.  It was 3/4 full of yellow liquid.  How meticulous of them to replace the lid so their pee didn't spill.

And now I will rant.  My coworkers all seem like super nice, chill people, but I have a gripe.  I hope that none of them by chance read this, but if anyone does, it's not personal, I like you, but I just need to bitch.  When I'm not at work, I'm NOT AT WORK.  I need a liberal dose of Me Time, and I'm barely eking out enough as it is.  I don't want to get a phone call from you, asking me to come and cover your shift in two hours, because I have probably already OCD orchestrated the remainder of my day and can't mentally accommodate your request.  Sorry, I'm insane, but that's who I am.

I'm going to make a concerted effort to write more (quality) posts this month (except for this one, this is just me spewing garbage), since November seems to be all about writing.  NaBloWriMo?  Sounds like a sex act, so clearly I'll participate.  NaNoWriMo just doesn't have the same verbal appeal, and I don't fancy myself very skilled at the art of fiction, so NaBloWriMo it is.  Expect a post a day, unless I'm dead.  But for now, you'll have to excuse me, because there's a glass of wine and some dried apple rings with my name on them, and I am in the middle of Chelsea Handler's My Horizontal Life.  Goodnight, everybody.