saint-louise's Diaryland Diary
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Touch me. I'm sick.
So. Friends in from out of town this weekend. Much idiocy. Much random cat taunting. Much overindulgence. I never do anything in moderation, by god.
Now all I can do is lie under my desk in a puddle of my own mixed bodily fluids (the blood is mine…I’m not so sure about the urine), and I don’t really remember how I got here. Funny thing is, I’m sore on my chin, my sternum, and my hip and pelvic bones, and I’m certain I never want to find out why. The other injuries are small but too many to list. Right about now, I’m guessing I was drawn into a combination dance-off/wrestling match at some point during the evening. Or dared to jump naked from the roof of my house and left in the yard all night. Whatever. I know that I eventually ended up face-down on the floor, being sat upon by angry dwarves for hours on end. That’s a definite.
My boss came over and said he’d be damned if he was going to pay me to ooze about, begging for mercy every five minutes.
I told him I couldn’t agree more. So I’m going home to get paid to ooze in my own bed. Piss off.
Corporate America is my bitch.
9:31 a.m. - 2002-10-07
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