create_destiny (
create_destiny) wrote2009-03-05 05:49 pm
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Entry tags:
High-Fiber Diet of Fuck and Run-On Sentences
So I pull into the parking lot at work this morning looking fabulous because I just got a haircut and highlights and I park my car and I'm walking through the parking lot holding my head a little higher than I normally do and I'm almost at the entrance (as are a couple of snobby co-workers who can NEVER condescend to look at me, let alone speak to me because what they do is SO much more important than what I do or some shit like that) when I trip on my shoe and lurch into one of those awkward gravity slam-dances where you are running and falling at the same time and I finally catch myself after like FIVE HOURS but not before spilling the entire contents of my purse including a bunch of loose tampons and a box of over-the-counter gas-relief medicine that has a big-ass label that screams "I'M A LOSER BECAUSE I FART A LOT." And these classy jackasses I work with walk right over my rolling tampons and don't say a damn word to me.
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Not that I want you to relive the moment or anything by reprinting it here, but OHMYGAWD that's it exactly! This should be in a reference book somewhere, when someone's looking for the proper way to describe this event. Even the amount of mental time it takes to execute it is perfect.
I fully understand your loneliness at work. When I was an accountant, I was so not an accountant and nobody ever understood what was funny or good music. In the end, I had to wear headphones just to stay sane.
I know the economy is bleak and all, but you need to get outta there, fer realz. Maybe you could invent an easy-to-use tampon-hiding purse accessory. Sounds like there's a market.
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