I'm barely in the office, I check my mail and mumble something to myself. Probably something about needing an EXTRA LARGE cup of caffeine just to get me through the day, and my co-worker comes over and looks over my shoulder to see what I'm grumbling about. Because I know I am at my most dangerous when I am MSing (because there is no PRE- about it), I don't speak...I just look at her. I hate invaders of personal space*. Unless, I have invited you to look over my shoulder, just don't do it. Or I may be tempted to push my chair back and hope that I crack your pretty little pedicure or/and maybe break your toes.
I don't get my coffee, I can't walk that far. I drink some chamomile TEA (it's supposed to be SOOTHING, right?)and take the world's biggest Motrin and hope that my uterus does not fall out at work.
My co-worker's phone WON'T STOP RINGING. Which would be okay, except she's not answering it, so they're calling the main line and it's MY DAY to answer the phones, so I have to keep transferring all the calls BACK to her even though all the patients say they've been calling that number and NOBODY is answering that line and can I please help them but I can't because I'm just the hired help lady/sir not a doctor and have no idea what you're talking about and so no, I can't give you advice about your chest pains, or meds...I can just transfer you to the right department, so sorry, leave a message and hopefully she will call you back before the turn of the century[transfer line].
I'm now drinking HOT WATER. Because my co-worker is going through her own "personal summer" and keeps turning the air conditioner down to the antartica setting because she's on fire from the inside. Hey heffa. GET A FAN. I live in LA and do not have a parka I can bring to work to accommodate your hot flashes. Geez.
Then THIS SAME CO-WORKER gets into an hour long argument with another co-worker over why she doesn't have her own fax machine at her desk. HE does, her other co-worker does...it's just not fair. Blah, blah, blah...bitch bitch bitch...moan, moan, moan. I am TWO seconds from ending up on Snapped! because I was getting ready to snatch up the fax machine and shove in place where I'm pretty sure she wasn't gonna wanna reload the paper tray.
My other co-worker/partner in trouble-makin' sends me this:
Even now, I think this is the funniest thing ever. And laughing is really the only thing that kicks me out of a bad mood. So fuck it, mahna mahna. Heh. I feel better already.
*The only time you may invade my space is if I invite you. Or you are unarguably gorgeous and are buying my next drink.