Too Tired to Try. Or Not Drunk Enough.

Dear Internet,

It appears that I am afraid of the internet. There's really no other way of explaining why I'm too slow to write posts anymore. Oh, and I'm super lazy. This whole working in an office thing is sort of for the birds.

Well, not entirely. I feel like an actual person because I've been working in an office. Whatever or whoever an actual person is. But that's not the point. I wonder what happens when I cross that bridge in the morning that makes me too tired and too out of it to sit down and write for a few minutes.

Clearly the tone of this post is not my regular booze-induced rambling. I'm sort of concerned with my inability to be creative after 5:00 PM CDT. Perhaps it's because all day long I'm thinking of new fun things to call the creepy weirdos I work with. I work with one individual whose personality vaguely reminds me of Michael Douglas' William "D-Fens" Foster, and who will also presumably go totally crazy one day and bring a Tec-9 to the office and start shooting up the john.

The potential of this happening is probably about 63%, and if it does happen, it'll probably be awesome. Except for the fact that I'll probably be the first one shot Columbine-style. Why? I'm so sweet and mild mannered. Not true, particularly when you consider that I've coined my co-worker's swagger as a "mongoloid leprechaun gangsta strut". I'm almost certain to be caught in the crossfire. Especially since I told this individual, "you're not in this conversation."

Se la vie. I'm too tired to be nice and/or political sometimes, especially when the person sat on my keyboard, asked me ridiculous personal questions, and made me want to vomit because all he talks about is the auto industry.

That's all I've got. And the reason, I'm working right now in 60 degree sunny weather instead of wandering around drunkenly.

Sadly,
Shelly