Thursday, March 18, 2004

Name of the day: Kristl. Stupid!

I don't think there is any better news that one could receive on a Thursday afternoon than that of finding out the next day is a day off. This week's been sort of a sluggish one for me as I've been staying up rather late. This afternoon I was dreading tomorrow's work, but my friends reminded me that my dad wanted a 3-day weekend. How cool is that? I want a job one day where I can sit and think, "Do I want to work this Friday? Nope! Everybody, go home!" I should be a doctor. I would have the power to make Fridays part of the weekend. Kick ass!

You know how we all have those people with whom we can share anything, while there are those whom we treat differently, and the latter are very glad you didn't share that certain female problem with them? Well, today, I was on the losing end of that situation. I can be civil to Ursula Braunstaen, but the truth is, she's a moron. And she doesn't bathe. And she wears clothes MANY times before washing them. And she fancies herself a sex-machine. And she's rotting from the inside. Also, she doesn't mind telling me, "God, I'm flooding!" You see? That's just flagrant boundary crossing. I've never wanted to hear her say that to me. I've never wanted to get that personal with her. I was content thinking of her as the robot that hands me my check at the end of the week. I think I need to stuff red-hot coals in my ears to purify them.

We have a maid who comes on Mondays and Fridays, but Sunday and Thursday nights, my mom likes to have a mass-house cleaning. "Excuse me. Exactly what do you pay the maid to do," I often ask during these psycho tidying sessions. "She does do the laundry and vacuuming." But when she vacuums, she just runs over the visible parts of the floor. Hell, I do that for free! I want a cut of her check. She's not allowed to do my laundry because I'm really anal about the way my clothes are hung or folded, and she doesn't do it the way I want it. She's not allowed to go into my room because she misplaces my stuff, and she always puts flannel sheets on my bed despite my having told her a gajillion zillion times that I hate them. So I'm just confused.

Ugh! I just remembered that I get to sleep in in the morning, but the maid is coming. She likes to bang the vacuum cleaner into all of the walls. I need to find my earplugs.