Please someone, ANYONE tell me it's Friday

Reasons I loathe Connecticut nay reasons why I hate working in a an “open floor” office

I was completely prepared to rant about all the despicableness of Connecticut, wait is despicableness a word? any how as the day dragged on this new, better, angrier complaint took over my deep rooted hatred for that very square state. The Background: I hate working in an “office” where all the desks are stuffed into 4 walls, 4 ugly walls at that.
And now for the count down: Top ten reasons why I hate working with 3 people stuffed up my ass.
1) Because there are 3 other people up my ass.
2) And speaking of said ass when there are 3 other people at spitting distance you can’t even scratch said ass.
3) You are subjected to every dumb-ass conversation anyone wants to have.
4) No matter how hard you try to ignore the dumb ass conversations your nosy, soap opera watching, rubber necking side can’t help but listen in on every syllable.
5) The side of you that just wants to be loved and petted feels compelled to constantly entertain and slap on the red nose and wig and dance around making balloon animals for your co-workers.
6) You are forced to write a blog in order to
a. look busy and pretend you are sooo important and have tons of work to do.
b. stay conscious because you are so bored because honestly you are neither important or have anything left to do, but refuse to keep entertaining because you are so damn tired from blowing up those stupid balloon animals.
7) You get to know your coworkers way to well. Seriously people I do not want nor need to know how when you clean up your dog’s shit it’s still warm, and that you kind of like that, nor do I need to know that your brother bitch slapped you last weekend, and while we are at it please no more bathroom sagas or about the weird itch and smell.
8) I can’t browse through all the truly great websites I want to, I’m limited to PG sites, but come on people I need my trashy sites full of Cameron Diaz with bad acne and/or but not limited to anything Jude Law
9) You can’t talk on the phone without everyone hearing about that weird itch and smell you just got.
10)And did I mention that you have to pretend to be interested in every assahat story everyone tells every other minute.
I just spit out ten in the last 2 minutes, I’m sure there are many more that my blinding rage wont let me see. I need another job ,I need to invent, create, anything that might make me enough money so that I don’t have to see anyone’s face, ever! I need to keep pushing on that jewelry making business or the other 3 gazillion businesses I pretended to start. I need a job where I see no one, talk to no one, or anything that has to do with Jude Law, or, or OR I’m just having a crappy day and need to get over myself.

Me v. Numbers

I had an earth shattering revelation today. I am not the architect of my own life, I'm more like the effing accountant of my life! Numbers are such a large part of life. They quantify life, they are a gauge of sorts. Numbers, numbers, numbers... 8 hours of work, 23 years old, 1 million dollars, 299,792,458 m/s (the speed of light) . These brain-eating Zombie Numbers are driving me to happy pills! Since the minute I wake up I am all "how many minutes do I have to shower, how many bagels should I eat today, how many hours left till I get out of the third ring of hell a.k.a work, how much are those adorable equestrian boots I spotted in Vogue? But, today it was different today I did my own small coup d'etat, I did not want to count or to know, how many days or months had passed, today I wanted to exist without numbers, without knowing whether I was on target or not. I abandoned numbers, which I soon realized was impossible, and also that numbers don't like to be ignored and actually turn on you and throw tantrums when ignored...For example I refused to look at the time or date therefore I missed the mother effing bus, fortunately my awesome room mate gave me a lift to the train station, and because I refused to acknowledge what day it was because I would have to face another god awful number I forgot to pay my phone bill! When finally it was time for me to go home I couldn't because I refused to pay attention to how much money I had on me and therefore I had to walk to the bank and take out $40 because of the infamously late phone bill thereby making me miss my train, and to top everything off the next train came 40 minutes later...And now for my daily melt down: I hate Connecticut with all my being (that rant on tomorrows post), I hate trains, but more importantly...I hate NUMBERS!!!! Except of course when they are on my side...I can totally buy those boots!! Heh!