This stinks

I am such a scrooge this year – I can’t even begin to guess how many times I’ve muttered/said/shouted “I hate Christmas” or some variation on that in the last month or so. I’m sick of fighting crowds in stores and sitting in a parking lot just waiting to get in or out (or into the Bob Evans parking lot) and being told “I’m sorry, we don’t have that, but we can special order it” and having people look at me like I’m retarded when I ask about an item and driving all over the frigging state (or into Michigan) to go to a certain store. I’ll tell you what, whoever gets a gift from us this year had better act like it’s the best gift they ever got, or there’s going to be some serious problems.

Speaking of gifts, I’ve been making gifts for a couple people (which also has caused me great frustration at times, but I’ll get over it) and I had a most foul experience Saturday night while working on these projects. I was all settle in on the couch, crafting away, with Sugar Puddin’ curled up on the back of the couch and Rusty curled up on the floor at my feet, both of them asleep. All was good until the most horrific stink wafted up from the dog. It was so awful I couldn’t even concentrate on what I was doing … he gassed me out of the family room! I had to leave because trying to fan it away wasn’t working, and you can only hold your breath so long before you have to breathe again. It just amazes me how much more awful dog (and cat) farts are than human farts.

Dave and I are going to create a “Things Heard at Work That are Never Good” list, or maybe a “Things I Never Want to Hear at Work Again” list, something along those lines. If you’ve got something, e-mail it to me and we’ll add it. I’m not sure where it’ll end up, but it’ll probably be somewhere on the site. You’ll just have to wait and see.

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