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2004-01-20 | 11:51 p.m.
it gave corduroy licorice gas whenever he had to repeat things. for instance, whenever he'd work with lumber it'd be measure twice, cut once.
i've finally been introduced to the hilarious world of the bbc series the office. i'd heard it was genius and now have witnessed it on my own. oftentimes i'll watch a movie or tv show and think smugly, "i could have done a better job," but not with this one. i'm in awe of the low-key brilliance and originality. wish i could come up with something that good.
there is a creepy cleaner guy at the gym i go to. i'm telling you this in case i go missing. because in his latka-like watching everyone from under his downturned eyebrows, navy blue jumpsuit-wearing weirdness, i can totally imagine him bopping me or another female gym-goer over the head with a mop handle. it doesn't help that csi is playing on the televisions over the stairmasters. don't worry. i'm keeping an eye on him for signs of crime, when not pointedly ignoring the attractive bloke with the freaky shoes who returns the favor by pointedly ignoring me.
my bullshit detector is on orange alert.
i don't know if mercury is in retrograde (or vintage-grade, as the savvy resellers would have it), but there seems to be a vortex of manipulative guilt swirling about me at this time and i'm up to here with it.
i pity the fool who tries to use guilt on me as motivation device within the next fortnight. hell will be paid.
throughout my life, guilt has been a frequent companion motivating me to do all kinds of things i would have rather not done. sometimes the inconveniences were overcome by pleasant results, but there would always be that briny aftertaste of having done something under resistance.
it really takes a lot to get me pissed off and even more to get me to express my piss-offed-ness, but today it happened. and i celebrate it. even though it had me in knots, it felt good to draw a limit line in the sand and call someone on their f'ed up bullshit.
and even though the instigator apologized in an acceptably remorseful manner, it still helps to call her a bitch under my breath at irregular intervals. just for therapeutic value.
buying that paperback called when i say no, i feel guilty in the airport this fall was a watershed moment, i tell you what. the older i get, the less manipulative, passive-aggressive crap i am willing to take.
boy, i'm going to be a pisser of an old lady.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry