Let's Kick It Off Right

I've been working from home for the better part of past 4 weeks. Stress is much lower, although dealing with whom and what I deal with carries it's own causes for a ten-count. Sunday night, and I'm getting ready to start downshifting so I can, sigh, work tomorrow. I have a lot to do. And I have zero interest in doing any of it. I am my own leader, so I can get plenty of work done on my own. OH WAIT, no I can't, becuase I have too much horsecrap through which to sift. Leadership is wearing a LOT of cologne and makeup, which is pointless when they are THAT far in the dark. Yeah, I can smell 'em coming, but it doesn't mean they brought a flashlight.

fffrrrrrrrrrrrp
'scuse me

Shitchya not, one day I received 9 e-mails prior to 10am regarding a subject I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH, other than knowing of it. Imagine you ate cheese once. It agreed with you. Somebody had cheese out at a party, and you were seen eating from it. That was, say, 4 years ago. Now imagine getting 9 voicemails within 2 hours where somebody in another state that an Org Chart has deemed your "manager." The subject of those voicemails? Your manager is interested in making cheese. You were seen eating cheese four years ago. Therefore you must know about the process that resulted in your bringing lip-side a few cubes of smokey cheddar, and a bloop of gorgonzola-cranberry-walnut log to your crostini. Right?

So now, do you say that you could find out enough about cheese making to start your own business in your kitchen, risking further involvement in glorifying some other cheeseball... OR, do you just chuck a summer sausage (Summer: THE Sausage Season. paid for by Weird Sausage Lovers of Multnomah County) in their direction, pack your boxes, and start to separatin' curds & whey?

I'd rather be helping others, moving forward, giving back, like Ty Pennington sans Type-A personality and those "tendencies." But, shit yes, I'm bringing a toolbelt, because toolbelts are hot. Other things hot include good grout work, re-wiring your kitchen, and the inner surfaces of Maya Angelou's thighs. Sssssssssssssssssssssssssizzlin'!

I feel like I'm being taken-from. I am not stolen-from, as I am complicit in this transaction of effort and, sigh, money. I'm gathering the strength to throw double birds and say "NO SEVERANCE, NO PEACE." E-mailing the floor about donuts in the breakroom, then leaving two empty boxes from a local bakery and one-half a maple bar... whoa, it moved a little there. I would then sit there and edit old essays of mine, while waiting for someone's inner Carnie Wilson to send them gaping maw-long into that last fraction of a pastry. Then I'd take a picture, send it around with the caption "This person ate the last donut on [insert date of fun here]. Forever Piggy." Then I'd start packing my boxes, and go. The only thing it would do is cause a large, 4-week inconvenience to greater than 10 people, each making more than $100K. Then I may go for a long walk, and hope my erection would subside before I get to the next crosswalk. Think of it... I could leave behind those I non-like, and meet all new people to judge! What a fabulous time in which we live.

Sounds worth it to me. Fist me sleeping, how many times can I write about wanting to quit? It's getting as bad as telling everyone what's wrong with them.
If anybody needs a moderately well-read, enthusiastic, analytical mind to work for them, drop me a Message. It's a staring contest, and I'm pretty sure my adversary doesn't have the proper reptilian brain functions to remember to blink, or they've simply fallen asleep at the keyboard with their finger on the "Annoy" key. It's right but the FU2 key.
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My dear Aunt Judy, sister of my dad Gerry, is in town from Georgia. She told me that she has quite a few of her friends reading this, and for the promotion and new readership, I am very grateful.
If anything here offends you, or is rather "blue," feel free to e-mail me about it. If you need MORE blue material or MORE offensive stuff, oh wow, wait until Wednesday for my story with "Everything!" Paranoia, technology, physical tics, and everyone's favorite... costume SWASTIKAS!

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