Something For Tuesday

Hey, lookie that! I’m doing a Tuesday entry. I bet y’all feel speshel.

Juneau does! She’s very speshel.

I’m also typing without the benefit of my left pinky finger, which I’ve fondly come to calling Scarfinger; the squash attack survivor, and now my right middle finger which has gone slightly Frankenfinger on me. At first I thought it was a hang nail gone bad, but then when I…err…sort of accidentally with a smidge of effort “dislodged” the hurty part of my finger (what? It was calloused and owwie and I was bored) I found that I might just have the start of an ingrown nail. Weird. My fingers just don’t normally do the ingrown thing (the toes take up the slack for that. I have really ornery toes) but I swear there is a pokey little nail part giving me aggravation. Or was since I sort of have no skin left where there was irritation.

Perhaps the wiser course of action may have been to clip the nail but I don’t have a nail clippers here. A nail clipper? A pair of clippers? What’s the correct form on that anyway? So I have Scarfinger all taped and swaddled up again today, a band-aid on the other finger that got attacked by the squash stem and now a band-aid on my middle finger. I look like I’m back in grade school.

Oh yeah. Remember when I said I was bored? So, ummm, I might have been left alone with not much to do and within easy reach of a Sharpie. I might have also been amused at how Scarfinger sort of looks like someone wearing a pillowcase because of the way I taped it. It is also entirely possible that I might be sporting a chipper smiley face on Scarfinger. Might.

Moving On!

The students are back in town and good lord all-holy-mighty it’s the crack crazy around here. Yesterday at DQ’s game, which we’ve been holding in the Union, there was a table of women who were snapping and clapping and chanting for hours. At first I thought it was one of those cutsie rhythmic clapping snapping games you see (sort of like those slappy-pat patty cake games but for older more sophisticated people) here and there and they were just goofing around doing their fun snappy clap thing. Which, I expect, is sort of fun but like impromptu haiku (which I have been known to do, unlike the snappy clap game which I have never done) there is a finite limit to the number of hours that sort of stuff can continue and not become torture. At least in my world. Impromptu haiku is good for maaaaybe a long half hour straight if you get some really creative people. Or possibly it becomes an intermittent thing as new material presents itself and a haiku is born but certainly never more than a solid 45 minutes of haiku. Good lord, strange things start to happen when you force a brain to think in 5-7-5 for that long a time. Apparently snappy clappy has a less finite lifespan because they were still doing it when we packed up to go at 9, making it a nice round three hours of snappy-clappy-chant.

Three hours of snappy-clappy-chant might also drive someone homicidal. I’m just sayin’,

Students are also possibly responsible for the increase in road ass driving. Now I don’t particularly want to be all student prejudiced but I have noticed that since y’all came back we’ve had more incidents of fuck-tard behind the wheel. Make your own conclusion if you will, but stay the hell off the god damned roads in the meantime MmmmKay? Jeebus people.

I am not built to be immersed in stupidity and let me tell you, the beginning of the school term is fraught with it.

I also want to go on record announcing that I should get the gold star award for coming into work today. Ugh! I’m still kind of cranky in the tum, I slept like ass, my finger has a giant gouge in it (which is the hurt if you happen to roll over on it. Several times) and I have an uncomfortable boo-boo which I’m never going to mention again save to say that the human race really needs to renegotiate what areas of the body can and can not acquire boo-boos. Plus y’all know how I feel about that thing called work where on a good day I don’t feel like coming in but lo! In I came a-dragging all the way. There should be a Nobel prize for getting to work despite all these obstacles because Damn! I put forth some monumental effort to be here today and I deserve some sort of recognition.

I think they should institute a “made it to work” award for when you really, really, really don’t want to go in and are thinking to yourself “Hmmmm. Sick/personal day sounds mighty fine right now” but you get up and go anyway. That’s some serious effort and I think everyone who has one of those days needs to be recognized for it. Hooray! You did it! Good for you! Hugs or kisses or mocha (whatever your personal preference is), for you, you are just the BEST.

When I take over the world, I’ll add that thought to my business overhaul, along with the mandatory siesta and the four day/eight hour work week. See? I can be nice when I set my mind to it.

Is it the weekend yet? I could really go for a three day weekend right now. Plus, I just figured out, I took of the Friday of Labor Day week off which means I not only have a three day weekend, but a three day work week and another three day weekend. And, donuts! (Does it get any better?) I just have to slog through three more days of work. Heh. 3, 3, 3, 3. I can dig that, I just wish I was in that 3 of weekend instead of my first 3 of work.

Say hello to my leetle friend.

Last year at the booniverse: Plus, nobody smokes a skinny cigar like Clint.

Last last year at the booniverse: Calling in sick from the blog.

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