I’ve got a little time to kill while waiting for my flight and my checklist is completed.
Assload of clothes? Check.
Entertainment for the LongestFlightEver? Check. (No, not p0rn. *sigh*)
Caretaker for Asshead and fish? Check.
Heart firmly lodged in throat? Check.
Work has been yet another shovelfull on the Mountain of Stressful Shit in life lately, but I figure this is why the N-Strike M@verick was created.
(I’m damn lucky I didn’t break my trigger finger playing hockey. Breaking my middle finger though, makes it almost impossible to drive effectively).
Last week we discovered that Nerf D@rts, when licked beforehand and shot straight up, will stick to the ceiling of above our desks indefinitely.
We had a pool on when they’d come down, but then we decided we needed them and me and CoWorkerBuddy took turns hurling the Nerf Basketball at them.
(I just noticed that the Nerf Ball is perfectly camouflaged against my jeans and that interminably loud shirt. Awesome.)
Throwing the ball at them succeeded only in sticking them more firmly to the ceiling before we decided to quit, and resigned ourselves to the random *poik* noises around our desks as they fell on their own over the next few days.
Yesterday, as folks came by to wish me luck and say their goodbyes, VPGuy came by my desk to ask loudly and irritatedly, “What is this shit? Who the fuck authorized this?”
I realized he was holding my vacation request form and I reminded him with a smirk, “Um, YOU did.”
“We’re in the middle of the biggest product launch in the history of our company, and you’re chasing some chick in friggin Australia?”
I smiled broadly and answered, “The Product is fine, my shit is all done, and you bet yer ass I’m headed to Australia.”
He then smiled and said, “Damn… you comin’ back? Remember, you’re no good to me dead, or as an Australian.”
I was about to reassure him of my return when the last of those stubbornass darts decided to come loose.
*Poink* Right off the brim of my hat.
VPGuy looked irritated again, mumbled something about it ‘raining darts’ and walked away shaking his head.
I’m lucky they love me, or I’d be so fucking fired it isn’t even funny.
Thanks to all of you for your supportive emails and *ahem* comments.
You are all fucking awesome.
Even the assbags that called me “Fag,” because I know you guys are just bitter that I’m not flying out to make sweet love to you instead. Fags.
I’m outta here in mere hours and will try to update while I’m there. If I don’t, it’s only because I’m either naked and euphoric… or naked, laying in a bathtub full of ice, and missing a kidney (thanks D-bag, for making that a legitimate concern, you’re a real pal… bitch).