And when I am disappointed…I bake.
I babysat the monsters from 4:30 till 9:30 today.
Made a pit stop a la grocery store on the way home and soooooo far I have made GF cinnamon rolls, cookies, and rice pudding.
In my skivvies.
Because you can’t bake in full frontal gear.
No fun in that.
Plus there’s the off-chance that I may get sugar on my boobies.
Then it’s FUN FOR EVERYONE!!
And I’m nowhere near being done.
I want to make caramel popcorn.
And a strong drink.
Which for me is…
Malibu and Sunkist (I’m an extreme lightweight).
How was I disappointed you may ask?
Oki doki, I will explain.
Well it was the plan that tomorrow at 9am I would drag my sleepy eyes open, drag my sleepy body to the shower, and then drag my makeup on my face.
Then at 10, I would be at Perkins.
Meeting my bestest friend.
Then after some massive hugging and chowing of food and vocal exchange, we would go back to my apartment to exchange Christmas gifts and more vocal exchange.
To say I was excited is like giving a nymphomaniac Vin Diesel and The Rock…at the same time.
I rushed about all week completing her Christmas gifts.
Just finished the last one last night at Midnight.
Got up early this morning and scoured my apartment.
I’ve heard before that “Oh your friends won’t care what your apartment looks like.”
And unless you are legally blind or wearing one of those ridiculous slotted glasses, you are too.
I know you are.
Then I painstakingly and carefully wrapped each of her presents.
And cute To and From tags.
Then I put them all in a charming Christmas bag so the Devil Cat couldn’t get at them.
Now I know there was a chance of a huge snowstorm.
And if that happened, of course I wouldn’t want her driving all that way.
So there was a slight possibility of her not coming down.
Well it barely snowed here.
So I assumed we were still on.
Fast forward to 8pm.
Still hadn’t heard anything about whether or not she was coming down or not.
Then I receive a few of her tweets.
One was, “Gosh, I’m such a nice coworker.”
So then I text her.
“Did you make the trip?”
Assuming that she would have left a few hours ago.
And all I get back is:
“No. I just got done with work. I think I will have to come a different time.”
No, “I’m sorry.”
Then her next tweet comes through:
“Seems like a good night to finally start reading the book I have been waiting to read!”
We make this plan a whole week in advance.
I only get to see you two or three times a year.
And that’s all?
If you can’t tell, I’m still peeved.
I want to know why she’s such a “nice coworker”.
Because if she said yes to work late, she deserves the Employee of the Year Award.
I would have said: “F you. I have plans.”
Ok, maybe a little nicer than that since I probably wouldn’t want to get fired.
I think I’m more disappointed than normal because this is the second time it’s happened.
The first time was due to her BF being a dick.
Being a girl stinks like a dirty farmers’ sock.
I don’t like having a bazillion more emotions.
I just want the basic three male ones.
It would be so much easier.
I’d eat a sammich, take a nap, bone the BF and be done with it.
Because then I do the typical thing and start to over-analyze myself.
Am I out of line for feeling hurt?
Should I bitch at her?
Or should I just suck it up and keep it locked away in the “This Will Someday Explode” box?
I pick option three.
Actually I have a better idea…
Give me Vin Diesel and The Rock instead….
Now if I could just remember where I put my fuzzy handcuffs.