It all started when I got to work and found this waiting for me on my desk.

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It’s a Valentine from Lynne. Being every bit as juvenile as she, I returned the sentiment with a similar Valentine that said “bite me” with a chocolate peanut butter heart that, when eaten by her allergicness, would certainly send her into anaphylactic shock. “Happy V-day, the hives are festive!” (I’m not evil! I didn’t know she was allergic to pb.)

This set off a cacophony of emails regarding phrases we’d rather see on the Necco conversation hearts than stupid crap like “be mine” and “I love you.” The following is a collaborative list for your reading pleasure:

  • No BJ 4 U
  • UR Fat
  • U Suck
  • I (heart) boobs
  • Hate U
  • Dum Ass
  • B Gone
  • U R A Douche
  • Sweet tits
  • Nice Cans
  • Crotch rot
  • Fat bitch
  • Butt Pirate
  • Prn Star
  • Whiz on me
  • A-hole
  • Me so horny
  • Dck hed
  • Baby daddy?
  • Butt sex

Had we the time and ability to write in tiny, tiny letters we would have gone into the break room and written these on the bowl of hearts on the table in there. Can you imagine the look on a librarian’s face when she picks up a heart that says “butt sex” on it?

Wicked. Pissah.

I’m home sick today.

I’ve been dragging myself around pretending not to be sick for a week and I’ve given up. I’m sick. And because I was in denial for so long, I’m getting worse instead of better. Between the waves of nausea, bouts of the chills, the endless runny nose and sneezing fits, I am only able to get off the couch to change Disney DVDs, fetch snacks and wipe Mustang Sally’s bottom for her. Of course, by the time I’m done taking care of her, I have to come back and lie down again. I’d give anything for someone to bring me nice hot Vanilla Chai and a bowl of Campbell’s Chicken & Stars soup with extra sodium and ironically no chicken (the only acceptable food when you’re sick in my opinion) with friendly little orange goldfish crackers floating in it…mmmmm, not gonna happen.

Right now, my daughter is glued to 101 Dalmatians (does anyone else cry during this movie or am I really that sick?) and has covered herself and the floor in puffy Hello Kitty stickers and carrot cake. I feel guilty because it’s a snowy day and she’s dying to go outside to play, but I just can’t do it. After I get her dressed in all her gear, and take it all off because she has to use the potty, I’ll need an hour’s nap.  I suck as a mother.

It’s a funny thing that happens to me when I call in sick. No matter how wretched I feel, I’m consumed with guilt and spend the whole day feeling like a total shit-ass for not going in. Is anyone else afflicted with crappy employee syndrome? I think I need a support group for that too…

I’d love to complain some more but have to go. My daughter is demanding another snack and the dog refuses to get up and get it for her.

I don’t know if you knew, but I work at a library cataloging books. I see all kinds of shit, but nothing could have prepared me for this. Here I am, minding my own business, when this yoga DVD comes across my desk. It’s called Christoga and contains a 74 minute “Christian yoga” workout designed to strengthen both your abs and your faith in Christ at the same time.

I’m not even fucking kidding you.

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Using biblical scripture, the instructors (described by one reviewer as “sultry, with a hint of the Lord”) give Christian names to the traditional sanskrit poses. Listen to bible verses while holding such holy positions as Christ Exalted, Mighty Disciple and, my personal favorite, Salvation Rotation. This is the perfect workout for the good Christian woman who always felt “dirty” practicing yoga. Thank Jesus we can now squeeze our buns and get a devotional all at the same time!

This is wrong on so many levels that I’m just sitting here agog. I mean, what will the Jesus freaks think of next? Pontius Pilates?

I think I’m going to write to Richard Simmons and suggest that we put out a new DVD together. It’ll be a combo of Jazzercize and Islamic scripture called Islamacize: Sweatin’ with Allah. It will of course feature Richard dressed as Muhammed, leading a group of overweight women wearing spandex and Nike cross-trainers under traditional black burkas. They’ll sweat to such Muslim favorites as It’s my Shahadah and I’ll cry if I want to and He’s a Sunnis and he’ll never be any good. The diet portion of the DVD can begin during the month of Ramadan for an ultra fat burning jump start.

I don’t know what else to say about this for now so I’ll leave room for you.

Namaste Jesus.

For the safety of all involved, I considered not going to the Staff Development and Appreciation day at all. Then I remembered that food would be served. So, I risked a possible homicide and went for the food. Here’s the verdict:

Understanding Body Language Seminar: Total and utter waste of time. I didn’t need some PhD. to come and take two hours of my life to tell me that if someone is charging at me with a hunting rifle that they are tense about something. I knew that. Thanks. There wasn’t even anything interesting enough to make fun of. I learned nothing and perhaps even forgot a few things. Thankfully, I wasn’t chosen to participate in any role playing nonsense. That would have been trouble with a capital “You’re FIRED!”

I don’t think our Director and Assistant Director enjoyed the presentation either as they promptly stuffed the presenter into her coat and carried her equipment out to her car themselves. They even wrapped up her bagel for her. Buh-bye.

Food served at seminar: Bagels as big as your head that you had to risk a digit to cut into a more reasonable size. I hoped that the mayor would have something better to eat at the luncheon event to follow.

Town Employee Appreciation Holiday Luncheon with the Mayor: Decent food. The sweet potatoes were so good I wanted to bring them home, dump them into my bed, strip naked and roll around in them. The mayor came to the table to thank us for our hard work this year. It was very clear he’s never been into the library as he hadn’t the first clue what sort of work we actually did. The High School choir came to sing for us which made it impossible to talk. I guess they figured we talk to each other enough while we’re at work…

Having to go back to work after 2 hours of glassy eyed boredom and then stuffing myself Thanksgiving style: Freaking sucked ass.

Total number of calories consumed before 2:00 pm: 5,000 as a conservative guesstimate.

Body count: 0

Verdict on the day as a whole: Total success as my only goal was to get through it without killing anyone.

Ugh. Dreading today intensely.

We’re having a staff development day at work: Understanding Body Language.

Right now, my body language is not saying nice things.

Maybe I’m just a giant bitch, but being forced to spend hours of intimate time with people you wouldn’t normally associate with is just not my thing. It’s fucking painful. To make it even more torturous, it’s almost guaranteed that at some point we’re going to be split up into groups to do the ever popular role play and/or brainstorming. We’ll have to shout out numbers so that we can be paired randomly into groups with people we do not know or think are fucktards. I sit with certain people for a reason: I can tolerate them.

To make matters worse, I’ve got a pretty raging case of PMS and am fully capable of taking multiple human lives at the slightest provocation. On days like this I repeat to myself “murder is wrong, every human life has value.” If I say it enough times, it will become true.

I’m thinking that I can only get into trouble today.