Tomorrow’s the last day!
Chicka chicka what what
Chicka chicka yeah
Tomorrow’s the last day!
Chicka chicka what what
Chicka chicka yeah
I’ve been eating a lot of shit lately.
Not literally, obv, but you know what I mean.
Dim sum? Rice noodle, something something deep fried? Yes please. Brie-stuffed French toast with bananas, chocolate chips, and caramel sauce? Oh god, yes. Cardiac arrest-inducing rich ramen soup? I’m salivating at the thought.
Burgers from Five Guys and/or The Burger’s Priest? I won’t resist!
I just can’t control myself. I’m on the skinny side, so when I tell people about my lack of self control, they laugh at me. They laugh in my face. How rude. I’m offended.
I went to an all-day meeting today. Yeah, I have like two days left at work and they’re still sending me to things and letting me represent the company. Go figure. I had a donut for breakfast. A fucking donut. I’m obviously a shameless pig, stuffing that crap into my pie hole. It was a chocolate glazed donut from Timmie’s and it wasn’t even good. Disappoint.
Then, I decided to be good and have something healthy for lunch. So I popped into a little bistro and treated myself to a HEALTHY grilled chicken wrap and salad. I also drank a lot of water. See? Good.
Five o’clock rolls around and I decide to treat myself to some dark chocolate from Godiva. I ate healthy for lunch and was a numb corporate zombie all day. I deserve a reward.
I also had two slices of pizza for dinner. It wasn’t even good, I threw away the rest of the pizza (it was small). If I’m going to eat shit, it better be worth my while. Regrets were had.
I am going to reward myself tomorrow for living with my bad decisions and not throwing them up. No disrespect to anyone with an eating disorder. I can’t deny that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, and I’m glad I’m resisting the temptation to “undo” a bad dining option. It’s difficult and it sucks.
I gave in my two weeks recently.
October 4 cannot come fast enough.
I’m quietly doing my work and pulling shenanigans on my coworkers to keep myself entertained. Also because I’m passive-aggressive and I will have my revenge. I will have it!
Oh, you treated me like a personal servant for months? Now your mouse won’t work because I’ve unplugged it while you were away from your desk. And you won’t figure it out because you don’t understand computers. Yes, there’s a special place in hell for people like me.
Oh, you made up rumours about me and my supervisor because I got promoted? I will hide a fish juice-soaked sock in your vent…directly…above…your head.
Oh, you snubbed me at lunch and were a total dick the whole time I worked here? That’s it, I’m deleting Google Chrome off your desktop and installing Internet Explorer. That’ll show you, dick. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to download your precious Google Chrome because Internet Explorer will crash every time you launch it.
Oh, you’re a chauvinistic pig whose wife (who works with us) opens the mail? I will buy a big black dildo, wrap it (to accentuate the unique shape, of course) and ship it to you.
It’s on like Donkey Kong, beetches.
eHarmony came out with a list called 15 Reasons to Date a Lawyer.
People are up in arms about it. Non-lawyers are probably offended and disgusted by their golddigging peers who go gaga for jurisprudence. Lawyers are probably thrilled that they have (kinda) become dateable again. Thrilled, I say.
A lot of lawyers are pigeon-holed into the lawyer stereotype. Argumentative, cynical, and very rich. That, coupled with their crazy working hours makes it incredibly difficult for them to meet quality people. Female lawyers are at even more a disadvantage, because other men tend to find them intimidating. I feel you, girls. It’s tough being smart, successful, and confident. I certainly would know a lot about that.
Anyways, the list is pretty silly–I mean, are free notepads really a perk of dating a lawyer? Are we having a world shortage of notepads? Other reasons are on point. Going to boring-ass lawyerly events for the free food and open bar is a perk.
hardrockinhomemaker wrote a hilarious article responding to eHarmony’s list. Here are my favourite bits:
eHarmony says: “Lawyers know how to present themselves well – and up the charm. Your date will likely make a great impression with your friends and colleagues.”
HRH retorts: Lawyers know how to present themselves well to other lawyers. Everyone else is wondering how to escape the conversation as quickly as possible. Fixed it!
eHarmony says: “Lawyers are often invited to interesting social events. Most of them include an open bar.”
HRH retorts: No one can tolerate lawyers except for other lawyers (and even for them, it’s just barely), so they all try to drink away their misery together. Fixed it!
eHarmony says: “Like to debate? Your date is always up for that type of challenge.”
HRH retorts: Your date is going to nitpick and ride your ass – and the waiter’s ass, and your friends’ collective asses, and grandma’s ass – about trivial matters about which he is convinced he is correct, i.e., everything. Fixed it!
I found all of this utterly hilarious because I’m kinda, sorta seeing a lawyer and I’m passive-aggressive like that. I will admire him in person, and then go home and Google “lawyers suck” and “why is dating a lawyer so difficult?” See HRH’s point about your date riding your ass, the waiter’s ass, your friend’s collective asses, and your grandma’s ass about anything and everything.
If you’re a lawyer reading this, please cut that shit out. Lighten up. This is a date, not a deposition. Or, date another lawyer. I dunno. Take ’em out of the dating pool.
Here they are, in no particular order. Feel free to add some more in the comments section below.
And last but not least…what are your plans for the future? This question alone, is enough to send even the most confident twentysomething into a panic.
Your twenties are an interesting time.
This is the decade that really shapes your personality and possibly even the rest of your life.
People say that your teenage years are your formative years. I disagree. I was an entitled little shit during my teenage years. All I really learned was how to hide my shenanigans from my parental units. On the other hand, I also learned how to bullshit, which I must say is a very valuable life skill.
How to Bullshit (in a nutshell):
I think our twenties are our actual formative years. What can a teenager learn when they live in their cushy little bubble and don’t have any decision-making authority? I’m only in the first half of my twenties, but I’ve already learned a lot.
I learned how to survive on my own in a large (and intimidating) city. I learned how to find a sane roommate. I learned how to budget my income, and save money. I learned how to filter out the douchebags and avoid wasting time on them, whether as friends or more. I learned how to cook edible food (better late than never, bitches!). I started valuing my friendships and my family. I learned patience. I learned integrity. I learned selflessness.
There are days when I feel like an old bag because I meet someone my own age and struggle to spend at least ten minutes with them. I don’t get the whole #swag and #yolo shit, and actually find it really irritating. Dear god, shut the fuck up and get a job.
Then it dawns on me that I matured quicker. I left the cushy confines of my parents’ house before entering my twenties. I left my hometown where I knew everyone. I moved out. I’m on my own here. I do run of the mill adult things like wake up for work every morning and pay bills on the first of every month.
Then I slip up and do stupid shit like flying to Miami on a whim with a fling, binge-drinking all night, fleeing emotional intimacy, and eating nothing but Cheetos (only the crunchy kind) for an entire day.
Yeah…I have a long way to go.
So how are your twenties going?
I got the job!! Woo hoo!!
Yours truly has resigned from her post at an insurance company/satan’s workshop today. I had a formal letter and everything.
I think it went along the lines of:
Dear [Supervisor’s name],
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work as part of your team for the past twelve months. I have learned a lot during my time here, and I appreciate your guidance and support.
Please accept this letter as 14 days’ notice of my resignation from [Satan’s workshop]
I would like to add that I lasted a year without going completely insane.
The letter was full of shit, though. It really should have been something like:
Thank you for making my life a living hell for the past twelve months. I haven’t learned shit during my time here, other than how to look like I haven’t been crying during my commute to work…to see your miserable ass.
I would resign right here and now, but I have to give you two weeks. If this paper looks wet, that’s because it is. I spat on it before giving it to you.
Time to celebrate!!