2005-05-31 - 2:07 p.m.

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Let�s make a list of things I don�t know. These things are all causing me to have what I�m sure will resemble a month-long nervous breakdown.

1: I don�t know where we�ll be living after June 17. We have no word on the house we want. Nothing. The lovely Eleanor (and I KNOW you�re reading this) tells me �not to worry, Love� (Actually, she didn�t, but that�s how I�d like it to sound). Things are different down yonder.

(As an aside, I think it would be fun to post this one without spell checking. It would be fun, but I like you people so I won�t. I smell a real mess coming)

1a: I don�t know if we have enough time to pull off another deal if that one goes to shit. We have under 3 weeks to go. This is officially not cool. ***It�s later now. The aforementioned Eleanor has told me that a deal can go through in 3 days down there. I�ll believe that when I see it.***

2: We don�t know if our buyers will take the house. They want a new roof, repairs to the wood siding and repairs to the front steps (by the way, it took me 7 tries to spell steps correctly right there. I�m not even hungover, just antsy). Oh yea, they also want the chimney repaired. My response: Fuck you. Take it or fuck off. And since the lady is about to have a baby, I don�t know what choices they have. We came down $9000 from the initial listing to sell this place. Fix it yourself. However, if we knew if we were getting the house in Raleigh, we�d know how much money we have left over and what we could do on this one to make the deal happen more smooth-like.

3: I don�t know if HealthcareRelated Company is keeping me or not. Apparently, there are meetings this week to discuss it. I told my boss that my last day is next Friday unless they come up with something and there�s barely any time between now and then. I really don�t care either way, but it would be nicer to have some income for a while. It will make the bills associated with living in a hotel because we don�t have a house to move into all that much easier to bear.

(since the last typo reference, I�ve had like 20, including 1 in this sentence)

4: I don�t know how on Earth we�re going to pack our house. I know this isn�t that bad�it just needs to be done, but there�s a lot of work and I didn�t do enough this weekend. I have to go through my books tonight. I have a lot of books and will categorize them into: Those I MUST have for the next 9 months, and those that I could live without. On the first list, one could find: any book written by Mr. Buffett, some Tom Clancys, some Steven Kings, and some other must haves. (4 typos in that sentence alone) From there, I�ll move throughout the house. The problem is that JewelrySlut wants to throw out the house and start anew. She�s ready to pitch everything. As a result, I have to find a garbage hauler person to cart away our mess. I wish we could just get a dumpster and throw away as we like.

5: This isn�t technically something I don�t know, but I�ll add it: I have no confidence in any of this going well. I just spoke to the realtor and she�s telling me to get a roofer to the house to see what�s up. This contradicts what she had previously said about us not needing to worry about the roof. So, she�s an asshole, the other realtor is an asshole, the buyers� attorney sucks, and ours is never around. Oh yea�things are doing very well right about now. I think if you put a blood pressure cuff on me today it would explode.


On to other things. I like it when people write letters to other people or things. Like this:

To: Everyone I work with
Re: Going and fucking yourselves

Dear Everyone who works here,

Fuck you.

Did you happen to notice that I greeted you with a �Cheerio guvvnah� this morning? Do I have brown, crooked teeth? Was I carrying chips wrapped in the Daily Mirror?

I didn�t fucking think so.

Wanna know why?

It�s because we don�t fucking live in England or in any other country where they drive on the left side of the fucking road. So, as a courtesy to those of us who understand this, walk your fat fucking ass down the right, and when I say right, I mean �correct� as well as �right� side of the fucking hallway. I am more than tired of turning corners and walking into one of your fat asses as you carry your feedbag back from the cafeteria. I�ve really had it, folks. I�m under a lot of stress and am no mood to bump into one of your planetary-sized bodies when I�m trying to get to the bathroom to take a piss.

Thanks,

NoGoodDaddy

To: The fucking fucks who work to my left
Re: Me not giving a fuck about you

Dear fat assholes,

First off, maybe you wouldn�t need to be on those infamous diets you�re always talking about if you, for just 1 fucking minute, stopped eating. I mean, it�s like listening to cattle chew their cud all day. I�m tired of it.

I also don�t five a fuck who won American Idol and how you all couldn�t decide who to vote for and it kept you up all night as you worried about whether or not having not voted would have an impact on the show. I don�t fucking care.

Popping bubblewrap is not cool. I swear to fucking Christ, it�s not cool.

Waddling up and down the cubicle corridors is also not cool. It�s not cool because you�re all so fucking fat that you don�t fit between the cubes. Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. Don�t you all think that when you can�t fit between the cubes that maybe it�s time to lose a few pounds? Do you all cry when you look in the mirror? I mean, it�s not cool to carry 300+ pounds on a barely 5 foot tall frame. Not cool at all.
It�s also not cool when all 8 of you are on the same conference call at the same time. Go get a fucking conference room and have the meeting there. There is absolutely no need whatsoever to force me to listen to all 8 of you in fucking speakerphone stereo.

So, get this all done today so you can be alive for the next 2 weeks while I wind down my time here.

Thanks,

NoGoodDaddy

To: The fatties in the lunchroom
Re: The microwaves

Dear Fatasses,

The buckets of food that you consume will not heat up faster if you stare at the microwave. You�re not shooting out any extra boosting microwaves. You�re just blocking the napkin dispensers. And when I come by to get some of said napkins, AND I say �excuse me�, it�s really best to move a little bit and not to give me that Head-Wagging �Uh-huh you did not just say THAT� look that you�re all so find of doing. I�m not trying to �repress you� (Please, when reading, do the quotation fingers and add extra emphasis and whiteness to that statement) or �keep you down� because I am the �man�. I just want a fucking napkin.

Thanks,

NoGoodDaddy

See, it�s just that easy. I feel a little better now, but not much. Most of all, I want to kill someone or get a straight answer about anything.

Until then, I�ll sit here and clench my ass cheeks. I�m doing that not because I like how it feels but because I may shit myself. I ate too much meat last night. I grilled up a bunch of kielbasa, smoked sausage (almost the same thing but not quite), some garlic chicken sausage and some marinated chicken breasts. I have to make a meat shit and am afraid of it. Plus, I just ate 2 slices of Friday�s pizza, a pear and an apple (see�that�s how I maintain my girlish figure) for lunch. Throw in stress and I may shit myself. I want to hold it until 4:00 is I can because then the bathrooms empty out and nobody needs to be around when my ass decides to explode.

Boy, I�d bet you wish you could have that last minute of your life back.


**PS...I usually think up a header for the posting after I paste in the text. That one is a beauty if I may say so.

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