Team Jacob

Today is the beginning of the first full week I've had to work this whole month, and after a super fun weekend at my ten-year reunion, I was feeling completely defeated and underestimated. In an attempt to curb the doomy effects of dejection, I ignored my emails, paid my bills online, made a pedicure appointment, checked out Facebook, then surfed the net for three hours. (Did you know that they shot a chupacabra in Texas last week?) Then I decided at about noon that I wasn't going to do a damn thing, and I truly feel bad for whoever misunderstood my stifled giggling at Lindsay Lohan's trial footage for awkward professional bliss. When I was given work to appease my apparent eagerness to become the department stalwart of the month, I totally morphed into this undermedicated and rabid creature seething with resentment and pure corporate rage, which immediately led into my daily ritual of inventing ways I could get fired AND get severance pay. After debating if I could indeed maintain my current lifestyle on just Keith's paycheck and a weekly unemployment check, I called my husband and told him that we needed to start our own business. To which he replied "Don't be disappointed, but it doesn't happen overnight and we would need to do a lot of research. But we should definitely consider it." To be honest I was disappointed, and after "researching" for about ten minutes on the Small Business Administration website, I just decided it would be easier to request a higher dosage in medication, join a tanning bed, and find another hobby that I could covertly maintain at work. So I started this blog. And downloaded Eminem onto my Mp3 player. Somehow running at the gym doesn't seem so bad when you have someone screaming "I'm doin' this for me bitch." Maybe tomorrow will be better, if Henry Nubbins doesn't keep me up until midnight again debating the nutritional benefits of consuming sheep poop or wavering on his Twilight loyalties. Nubbins is Team Edward. I am decidedly Team Jacob. It's becoming an issue.