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I am fairly sure my current mood was derived from multiple sources, the foremost being my three-hour romp at the Motor Vehicle Department during two different instances today. However, the role of severe PMS cannot be discounted as another major contributing factor.
Instead of having dinner and working out for an hour, I ate half a bowl of soup before saying, "Fuck it," and going out for ice cream. I ate a massive waffle cone filled with sweet cream ice cream and rainbow sprinkles. I should have jogged on the treadmill, but I'm so totally not in the mood for that right now. I feel slightly guilty, but I'm a girl and the Midol isn't working, so the conscience can stick a sock in it. I also may have purchased a pint of chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream for emergency rationing later this evening. If things get desperate, then I won't have to go out again.
The MVD (because here in New Mexico we think the Motor Vehicle should come before the Department) trip wasn't exactly planned. I had to drop by and clear up approximately five lingering issues with several company vehicles. The first visit took care of four issues, but the second visit is what really did me in. I thought I was going to die in there with every degenerate low-life walking the face of this planet. It's probably a good thing that despite my concealed carry license, I still can't bring my handgun into a state or federal office. You'd think most people would be there for renewal of licenses or registrations, right? Wrong. Most people were there to update or renew their ignition interlock device (because they are idiots who chronically drive while intoxicated and must now breathe into a tube to start their car), pay a citation, or beg their way back into the driving masses by jumping through the proper hoops to have their suspended license reinstated. My only consolation was the poor little girl (not any older than five) sitting across from me who looked even more bored and horrified at her situation than I was.
When I returned to the office at 3:00 in the afternoon, it didn't exactly help to find the place in upheaval with a stack of papers on my desk well over seven inches high. I think I might have thrown my pen so hard it bounced off one wall of my office and rebounded off the other.
Oh, oh, oh... and I'm stupid. One of my peeves is prickly legs. I hate shaving, but I hate the feeling of leg hair even more. Unfortunately, I forgot to shave while taking a shower yesterday. Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I realized this and immediately retreated to the bathroom to correct it. It was midnight, and I was tired, so I went the lazy route and tried to dry shave. I've done this before. It never works. Never. I always end up with razor burn and discomfort. But, like every time, I think this time will be different. Maybe if I just use a little moisturizing oil before I whip the razor out it won't be so bad. It wasn't bad; it was horrifying. My legs burned when I got into bed. They burned when I got dressed this morning. They burned even more when I tried to complete the task with a real shave in the shower. They still burn.
I'm an idiot. And I hate PMS. I also hate: the MVD, everyone who left me a voice mail message at work, half of my co-workers, the fact that I didn't work out today, my vagina, razor burn, leg hair, work in general, mildew in the shower, the world.
EDIT: And to top all this off... I sent my mother some of the pictures I had taken at the park--the ones I posted here last week. I linked each picture in my Photobucket separately instead of giving her the address of my Photobucket account. My mother was whining to my brother about having to click on each picture separately, and my effin' brother showed her how to modify the URL to access my Photobucket. Dammit! Traitor! Now my mother has access to all my weirdness, which includes all the pictures of fictional characters I go goo-goo over and possibly other embarrassing pictures I wouldn't necessarily want her to see because they may or may not be offensive. In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal. I'm not going to die of embarrassment anytime soon. But is nothing sacred, little brother? Can't your big sis have her fandom fun without you showing mom all her dirty little online sekrets? I didn't tell her about the anime porn you downloaded years ago. Not even the tentacle porn you had on the family computer.
Instead of having dinner and working out for an hour, I ate half a bowl of soup before saying, "Fuck it," and going out for ice cream. I ate a massive waffle cone filled with sweet cream ice cream and rainbow sprinkles. I should have jogged on the treadmill, but I'm so totally not in the mood for that right now. I feel slightly guilty, but I'm a girl and the Midol isn't working, so the conscience can stick a sock in it. I also may have purchased a pint of chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream for emergency rationing later this evening. If things get desperate, then I won't have to go out again.
The MVD (because here in New Mexico we think the Motor Vehicle should come before the Department) trip wasn't exactly planned. I had to drop by and clear up approximately five lingering issues with several company vehicles. The first visit took care of four issues, but the second visit is what really did me in. I thought I was going to die in there with every degenerate low-life walking the face of this planet. It's probably a good thing that despite my concealed carry license, I still can't bring my handgun into a state or federal office. You'd think most people would be there for renewal of licenses or registrations, right? Wrong. Most people were there to update or renew their ignition interlock device (because they are idiots who chronically drive while intoxicated and must now breathe into a tube to start their car), pay a citation, or beg their way back into the driving masses by jumping through the proper hoops to have their suspended license reinstated. My only consolation was the poor little girl (not any older than five) sitting across from me who looked even more bored and horrified at her situation than I was.
When I returned to the office at 3:00 in the afternoon, it didn't exactly help to find the place in upheaval with a stack of papers on my desk well over seven inches high. I think I might have thrown my pen so hard it bounced off one wall of my office and rebounded off the other.
Oh, oh, oh... and I'm stupid. One of my peeves is prickly legs. I hate shaving, but I hate the feeling of leg hair even more. Unfortunately, I forgot to shave while taking a shower yesterday. Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I realized this and immediately retreated to the bathroom to correct it. It was midnight, and I was tired, so I went the lazy route and tried to dry shave. I've done this before. It never works. Never. I always end up with razor burn and discomfort. But, like every time, I think this time will be different. Maybe if I just use a little moisturizing oil before I whip the razor out it won't be so bad. It wasn't bad; it was horrifying. My legs burned when I got into bed. They burned when I got dressed this morning. They burned even more when I tried to complete the task with a real shave in the shower. They still burn.
I'm an idiot. And I hate PMS. I also hate: the MVD, everyone who left me a voice mail message at work, half of my co-workers, the fact that I didn't work out today, my vagina, razor burn, leg hair, work in general, mildew in the shower, the world.
EDIT: And to top all this off... I sent my mother some of the pictures I had taken at the park--the ones I posted here last week. I linked each picture in my Photobucket separately instead of giving her the address of my Photobucket account. My mother was whining to my brother about having to click on each picture separately, and my effin' brother showed her how to modify the URL to access my Photobucket. Dammit! Traitor! Now my mother has access to all my weirdness, which includes all the pictures of fictional characters I go goo-goo over and possibly other embarrassing pictures I wouldn't necessarily want her to see because they may or may not be offensive. In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal. I'm not going to die of embarrassment anytime soon. But is nothing sacred, little brother? Can't your big sis have her fandom fun without you showing mom all her dirty little online sekrets? I didn't tell her about the anime porn you downloaded years ago. Not even the tentacle porn you had on the family computer.