* Work today was tense. PseudoCorp's Board of Governors is getting ready to convene for some kind of...whatever it is they do...next week and everyone's sphincters were puckered accordingly. People were setting up scaffolding to POLISH THE BUILDING and running around panicking over posters and signs and holding Very Important Meetings. I asked The One Who Dislikes Me if there was anything I needed to know in advance of the vistors' arrival and she said "well, you know, this is all very high-profile, so make sure you're presentable." MAKE SURE I'M PRESENTABLE. OH I SEE, THEN I SUPPOSE I OUGHT TO CANCEL MY PLANS TO SHOW UP TO WORK IN MY PINK FUZZY BATHROBE WITH MY NIGHTGUARD STILL IN AND TAKE A DUMP ON THE RECEPTION DESK. LOLZIES! I'M GLAD WE HAD THIS LITTLE CHAT. Oy.
* Caps-lock outrage aside, The One Who Dislikes Me is kind of starting to grow on me. Or possibly I'm developing a wee touch of Stockholm Syndrome.
* The MFA Minivan had been pulling to the right since I had the tires rotated with the last oil change a couple of weeks ago, and seeing as how I'm working out of town at Weekend Warrior job both tomorrow AND Sunday I decided to take it in on the way home from PseudoCorp and have MFA Mechanic check it out. My main fear was that possibly something was up with the tires and I didn't want to have a blowout. They switched the tires around and now it pulls to the left, so it needs an alignment, which they said could wait until next weekend, which is my next day off, as long as I keep both hands on the wheel while driving it until then. Which given that I take surface roads it's hard to fap on the way to work anyway, so I can totally do that.
* The mechanic who helped me today was not MFA Mechanic himself, nor was it any of his sons, but rather Other Mechanic. And Other Mechanic...well, he totally hit on me. And no, I'm not flattering myself here; he was all asking me about my job and my hobbies and calling me "babe" and then he gave me his card and said I could call him any time. I'm not terribly offended; while I think it's in poor taste to hit on a woman wearing a wedding ring, Other Mechanic didn't invade my personal space or say anything sexually explicit or anything like that so it was less of a "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU" and more of a "OMGHAAAAA SRSLY?" It's kind of funny (more funny-weird than funny ha-ha), though, because I am the heaviest I've ever been non-pregnant and personally think I look like crap, and I'm getting hit on and eyed up more lately than ever before in my life. I asked Twitter and my husband about this and the general consensus is that the mens do not care about my BMI because I tend to gain weight in my chest and OMG TITTIES! Which...well, just wow. It's amazing to me what men will overlook if there are big boobs about.
* As soon as I got home from the mechanic's, Hotter jumped my bones (it's an Away Weekend for the MFA Children), because apparently OMG TITTIES + the urge to mark territory = UNF UNF UNF UNF!
* Oh, mens. Y'all so crazy. Bless your hearts.
* This blog is the shizz. I'm giving y'all the link by way of emergency reading material in case Humorless Felony Guy shows up at Weekend Warrior Job and has me hauled off in handcuffs and I can't make bail. You're WELCOME!