Happy Fucking Birthday

I feel like shit today. I've been tinkering with my breakfast menu to try to make it a little more heart-friendly (and fewer calories). I generally have half a bagel, an oatmeal bar and six prunes. Lots of antioxidants, good for macular degeneration and cholesterol. I decided recently to try to eliminate the bagel. I did that today and it was a huge mistake. I've felt so nauseated all morning. The nausea is gone but my stomach is still pretty unhappy with me. I take this handful of pills every morning and I guess the bagel (or something of equal bulk) is necessary to protect my stomach lining from the onslaught of medication. For a while I was thinking maybe I could move some of the pills to lunch time, but the medication I take the most of (antidepressants) has to be taken early. Damn damn damn.

We're getting ready to have an office birthday party. Big fun. Owner of the Crazy Land always ruins the birthday celebrations by talking about inappropriate topics. He has at least three favorites: the company is going out of business and we're all going to be unemployed; he's dying of a tumor and won't be around much longer; and something on the birthday cake looks like snot or a bug or something equally disgusting. He also makes us sing happy birthday, which all of us without exception really hate. That part about the tumor really drives me nuts. That's exactly the kind of thing my dad would do. It irritated me when my dad did it and I have absolutely no patience for it in anyone else. I've pointed out to my boss that he's been saying that to me for at least the past ten years and -- surprise! -- he's still here. He loves to say that shit when he's just done something he knows will piss me off. Of course, it just annoys me more, but god forbid that he should actually learn from experience. As a matter of fact, he has quite a few qualities which are similar to my dad's. Narcissitic. Obtuse. Whiny. Self-pitying. There's more, but I'm running out of time here. My therapist is periodically surprised that I can work in such a triggering environment.

Anyway, when he starts in on his birthday party patter, I'm the only person who will tell the man to shut up or change the subject. I've thought about sitting next to him so I can just elbow him when he starts. I really think someone else should be a big grown-up person and say something instead of waiting for me to do it. I've thought about instituting a fee for my services. I'm thinking ten dollars from every person every time I have to intervene. Seems fair to me. The person we're having a party for is a the Money Man. He's the guy who's getting his instructions directly from Jesus and his opinions from Rush Limbaugh. For such a pious person, there's very damn little of Jesus in his conversations. According to this guy, everyone is a moron or a moral derelict. He has contempt for people who dare to suggest that maybe if we all tried a little harder to get along, the world would be a slightly more pleasant place. Money Man is the guy who had a little pouty party because he thought I said something critical about the San Antonio Spurs basketball team. Jesus. Yes, you asshole, everything is about you.

Other than the anticipation of that fun-filled event, not much is going on today. The sun is finally out, so I'm feeling a little less down today. It's supposed to start raining again this weekend, though. hey, I'll take anything i can get.

here's the quote of the day:
"There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism. " ~ George Eliot

america held hostage day 1852
bushism of the day:
"They can get in line like those who have been here legally and have been working to become a citizenship in a legal manner."—Referring to immigrant workers, Washington, D.C., Dec. 20, 2004

website of the day: Gregorian Chants
http://www.christusrex.org/www2/cantgreg/