back in the saddle (on a dead horse)

someone asked me this morning if i was glad to be back at work after 12 days away. is that a real question? much like a catholic hooker on a Sunday night, i'm pretty sure work is the last place i want to be. do you understand the life of leisuuuure i was leading while on vacation? i woke up each day around 11 a.m. (that's CDT which is actually 9 a.m. PDT and really rather early). i laid in bed and watched judge mathis, people's court, got up to eat, got back in bed in time for another round of judge mathis and then judge judy. then i showered and was fortunate enough to have people take me to dine at places like chick-fil-a (awesome!!), fuddrucker's and the cottonpatch. now you might think that a brown girl in the south would shy away from any establishment having to do with cotton. and i must admit that having gone to the cottonpatch with my very white godfather, the whole event did whisper of plantation days. but they have the best catfish and buttered rolls around, so a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

but i don't want you to think the whole trip was a country affair. aside from all the fried food, the gold tooth, the pistol and whatnot, it was quite classy. i ate salads and drank tea. i read "the book thief" (an amazing novel), went for a walk (just one, as it was hotter than devil snatch) and watched true blood. and anyone who criticized my diet or my sleeping habits, i had three words for them: i'm on vacation.

and now, i'm back. earlier, my engaged co-worker was talking about her wedding, which i truly am delighted to hear about and will joyfully attend in a couple of months. as she concluded her story, she said to all the married women (and me), "i just love talking about my wedding with other--" (insert a look at me and a realization that she cannot end the sentence with "married women" and divert to option B) "women who like weddings." i appreciate her consideration on this matter. and i'm glad it only took 2.5 hours for me to get back to work and be reminded that "yeah, bitch. youz alone." what else? oh, yeah. the temp...the one that wanted to dagger me for my job. well, turns out she got a full time gig (one she actually likes) and started on Monday. so, she has a new good job, and i'm still here. guess the joke's on me, eh?

and no, i haven't talked to elvis. but i have no complaints about that. he texted me while i was in texas with the typical "are you asleep" (at 1 a.m. PDT, which is actually 3 a.m. CDT and much too fuckin' late for you to be trying to do whatever it is you're trying to do). i told him i was far away, hoping he would think that meant far away with a gent who could afford to travel in a car that did not double as his residence, when really i was at home, in my adolescent bed, curled up with a teddy bear and a blanket.

i saw this page bookmarked on my mother's computer, and if she is reading this right now, i would politely ask her to click on the x on the top right corner and never return, as i cannot speak my mind if my mother is reading, LA. love you, mom.