All the Grass is the Same Color

Okay, I was hoping after last night's bitch session that today would at least be a little better. After staying up until close to midnight, I was once again tired today. I did manage to drag my sorry ass into work at a hair past 7:30, so my afternoon isn't completely shot. But that's pretty much where the day turned sour.

As I rolled into the office this morning I took a peek at the coffee and saw that a new pot was a-brewing. Cha-ching, no dregs for this guy. Since the coffee maker we have here belongs to the same CoffeeMaker Union as my coffee maker at home, I knew I had a few minutes to wait until it was finished. No problem, I'll tidy up a few things and head over for my Joe.

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Strike One

As I poured the coffee into my mug, I apparently opened the floodgates a little too far and spilled it everywhere. The pot was literally filled to the brim and it made a mess when I tried to get my mug's worth. No problem, it cleaned up with a paper towel and life was good again. I checked to make sure I hadn't spilled it on myself too; I was clean.

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Strike Two

Now fully armed with my coffee, I was ready to start the day. (Insert sound of record skipping) How the hell did I get coffee ALL OVER my pants? It was literally spilled all down the front of my right leg and shoe.

Dammit!

Once again the Old Navy Stain Defender Khakis came through and cleanup was a breeze. Plus I had just recently waterproofed my shoes, so that wasn't a huge deal either.

Slowly my attitude was worsening.

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Strike Three

About an hour after the coffee fiascos, I decided to head down to the caf to fetch myself a muffin. I would have preferred pancakes but I didn't want to wait and it wasn't pancake day anyway. As I sauntered up to the register, The Queen of Customer Service was solving one of her many family crises via cell phone. She rang me up and awaited payment with her hand extended.

I awaited a total.

Finally she saw that I didn't have money out and she paused her phone conversation long enough to blurt out $1.25. Expecting me to pay in whole dollars, she had the $0.75 ready and waiting. I opened my wallet to find it devoid of all currency. Not only did she have to return the coins to the tray, but she also had to void out my purchase. Sorry lady, my bad. I was allowed to leave with my grease-bran muffin, with the understanding that my debt would be repaid at my convenience.

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The rule of thumb is to leave once you reach three strikes. Nothing good could can possibly come of a day like today, but I wasn't about to waste perfectly good vacation hours on a shit-ass day like this.

Armed with the knowledge that I not only have no money, but I now owe the cafeteria $1.25, I decided to check my bank account to see if there was enough to take out a $20. As I attempted to log in, this was the screen awaiting my information...



Pay close attention to the Security Code. Are you kidding me!? Is Greylock calling me a biotch? Them's is fightin' words, you yella-bellied, lily-livered, old panty-waist.

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Time for a Mood Upgrade

Since today is my day of complete rest, devoid of all physical activity, I thought I'd put it to use and mow/weedwack the lawn. This was actually my second choice. Contrary to the common belief that any bike ride under 40 miles still counts as a "rest day", I was informed that this is not true. Due to ribbal (things pertaining to the rib) unpleasantries, I thought it would be best to not run today. It's beautiful out so I thought I'd rest by riding my bike for a few hours. It's not my fault, I'm addicted to endorphines and you can't buy them over the counter anymore; you have to make them yourself.

Anyway, as I was mowing the lawn listening to the DMB song "Big Eyed Fish" I was remound of the proverb "If the grass seems greener on someone else's lawn, water your own lawn". Now, I wasn't thinking about literally watering the lawn, but rather about my recent bout of the cranks. I thought maybe I should do some spiritual watering. I'm not about to set foot in a church unless it's Christmas or Easter; spiritual is not a religious term for me.

I took a few minutes to reflect on how I don't actually have it all that bad. Sure, Karma likes to kick me in the nads every once in a while, but at least she doesn't do it with a shod foot (well, maybe once in a while). So what if I overdid running it and sprained an ovary (okay, not an ovary but some organ I can't identify)! I know someone who didn't overdo it and is currently much worse off than I am. She's one of the nicest people you'll meet and Karma still threw a monkeywrench in her bike spokes. There were more things of which I took stock, but I won't bore you with all of them. They fall under the category of "be happy with what you DO have". Okay, spiritual watering complete. I've even washed it down with a turkey, bacon and cheese wrap. Ahh wraps, they even make bacon healthy.

To repay me for my suffering, Karma has allowed me to easily remove the Nalgene lid from my dishwasher's heating element. I'd put a picture here of the lid, but Blogger is being cranky. But on the real, now I can clean up the kitchen!

PlacaTAN!

Over and Out,
Old Coot