Episode I: The Phantom Tenants

Today, in a galaxy far far away, sits a vacant home.  No ordinary home, this is. 

I try not to be a lover of “things” but I do reeeeeeally like like this house.  So much so that I let it sit vacant and pristine for months in lieu of renting the house out b/c I didn’t want anyone to mess it up.

Then I found (what I thought was) a lovely couple on that wonderful cyber-orgy known as craigslist.  Turns out, not so much.

I went to the house yesterday b/c they were “moving out” on the 5th.  Yesterday was the 5th.  They have moved nothing.  I had a right mind to throw everything away, but I was able to get in contact with Mr. Sucktastic and tell him that whatever he does not get by Saturday will be disposed of.  Here is a list of what I disposed of yesterday:

• approx. 75 bowls/cups/plates that were craftily (is that a word) used as an ashtray
• baby diapers, dirty ones
• rotten meat and spoiled milk (Oh, did I mention that they didn’t pay their power bill and the power was off for 9 days?  Because they didn’t, and it was. grrr)
• cat poop (I guess I also didn’t mention that they left a baby kitten in the house with little food, no water, and no way to escape the 95 degree heat of the house with no power.  Double grrr)
• random shoes in the front yard, I can’t make this stuff up peeps!
• Piles of piles of piles of fashion/gossip magazines because, really,  why waste your time paying bills and cleaning and taking care of your kids (which BTW are no longer in her custody) when you can sit around and smoke cigarettes and read about Britney smoking cigarettes and not cleaning and not taking care of her kids…see now doesn’t that make you feel muuuch better.

More on this saga (and the kitten) later.  Now, please excuse me while I go throw some shoes in the yard.

It’s one millllllion degrees here

Nothing about this weather is doing anything positive for my look, unless shiny foreheads, frizz, and pit stains are suddenly all the rage.

Summer (which does not officially start for 17 more days kill.me.now) is my next to the least favorite season (after winter b/c, duh, you can’t swim).  The swealtering heat coupled with the shitty weekend traffic from all of those lovely people going to/fro Florida sucks hard!  Also, (and then I will be through with the complaining) my office, which is fah fah away from the thermostat, happens to be the only office with windows.  Did I mention that my windows were made in the Bermuda Triangle and are made of some “diva” type material, in that the sun rises AND sets on them. 

If you know anything about how your typical thermostat works you know that it measures the temperature within a 1 inch radius, and then tells the unit “more cool refreshing air” or “stop blowing” based on that temperature (or at least that’s what my ex said and, didn’t you know? he knows everything!). 

Our thermostat is in the coolest, darkest place imaginable. 

My office is in the hotest, sunshineyest place imaginable. 

Right now our thermostat is set at 76 (which, really?), meaning that my office is about 2 degrees cooler than hell.  I’m in hell.  A hell where the booze, coke, and loose women are replaced with coffee, customers, and, well, still loose women.  A hell with a special spot saved for the people who designed this building.

 

 

Um, not so much.

I am becoming a stronger person, learning to live in the moment, and trying to focus on the present and all of the good things the present holds.  But, then sometimes my ego gets the best of me and I have to complain, if now was one of those moments I would probably mention some of the things that have been bothering me lately, some of my pet peeves if you will…

They might sound something like this:

Dude, please don’t prove how fast your car can go from 0-60 in order to pull out in front of me, only to then drive so effin slow that I am late (again) to work.  It’s really unpleasant and I am getting lightheaded from all the deep breaths that I am required to take to ensure that I don’t cuss someone out at work.

Honey, I know that you are jealous that I am out with my girlfriends and you are stuck with your lame hubby and his friends, and I also know that you are ashamed of what you wore out of the house just as much as I am ashamed for you, but you can’t be mad at me for looking fab and you can’t be mad at your hubby and his friends for checking me out.  Go home, change, fix yourself up…and then, if you still want to whisper (not-so-quietly) about someone, try bitching at your hubby, it’s not my fault I’m fab!  Um, I can teach you, but I’ll have to charge.

Dear lady that parked in the handicapped parking space b/c she is heavy and for some reason thinks that makes her handicapped,

We all saw that the trash can was right next to the handicapped parking spot that you parked in.  We also saw you pull out, stop, and then ball up about a gazillion sheets of paper and throw it on the ground.  I’m also glad that you saw me walk withing 2 inches of you, pick it up, and put it in the trash.  The force that I used to deflect you laser beam stares helped me burn an addition 5 calories.  Looks like I’ll be parking in the normal peoples spaces…thanks litterbug!

Lastly, on another traffic note, signs that say “Keep Moving” are typically there for a reason.  For those that may be unclear, Keep moving means that you should stay in a continuous state of moving.  I know it’s a little hard to wrap you brain around, and hell, you can even slow a bit just to make yourself feel better, but in Jesus’ Holy name!  PLEASE KEEP MOVING!!!!!