Friday, July 23, 2004

Whoo-hoo!!!! FRIDAY!!!!!

Man, where has this week gone? I feel like my whole life is flashing before my eyes. What started out as a horrendously slow week gathered crazy steam by Tuesday afternoon and didn't slow down until now. I've got serious Friday fever right now! Can't concentrate and I'm soooo ready to remove the clown suit (a.k.a. my dressy skirt) that I had to wear on casual Friday for a client meeting that got cancelled as soon as I walked in.

This week's been rough. I survived third degree burns. Yeah, that's not an exageration. After showing up looking like a leper on Tuesday, I was able to buff away two or three layers of dead skin (sorry for the nasty visual lovely readers!) and reveal shiny fire-hydrant red new skin underneath. Oh did I ever look sexy! Pleased that I would be able to go to work looking human (thanks to piles of foundation) on Wednesday, I woke up on Thursday only to find that I was once again shedding skin. I have NEVER peeled twice in my life.

So I was once again able to go to work AND a client event with a missing chunk of skin on my forehead. Boy, did I ever make a great impression on all those I met. I'm surprised a dermatologist didn't walk up to me and offer up his business card to help me with my skin disease. I'm serious, it really did look that bad.

I spent all morning shaking from stress because of a million different things I had to do at work yesterday, only to find out that the supposed "client crisis" for an account that wasn't even mine was really not. Is there a better feeling than the one of crazy amounts of stress leaving your body? I don't think so... It is a pseudo-orgasmic experience.

Last night I learned something completely new about sweetie pie. It's amazing that after knowing each other for 5 1/2 years and being married for almost two that he can still manage to surprise me. For a long time now, actually, since the day we met, I have made him spaghetti with meat sauce. My meat sauce is famous around the world, it is a very complex and time-consuming operation that includes the following ingredients: - 1 lb. of ground beef (extra lean, unless we're broke and then it's just the cheap one that scarily reads only "ground beef") and - 1 jar of Ragu meat-flavored sauce.

I know, you're scrambling to write this secret recipe down as we speak. I will pause here to give you time. Ok, you're ready now? I should add that sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly sassy, I also add a few dried herbs. As in, I take the jar of herbs from my Sam's Club spice rack that reads "Italian seasonings" and tap it a few times over the sauce.

Anyway, back to my original story. I developed this secret recipe for sweetie pie. And now, for five years, he has happily eaten it. Although recently, I've managed to remove myself enough from my self-absorbed world to realize that sweetie pie was eating the spaghetti, but left behind most of the meat sauce. So last night, exasperated I asked "why is it you don't eat the meat sauce? It's such a waste of perfectly ground up strange beef parts." He responded "I don't like meat sauce." I promptly fell off the couch. "WHAT," I gasped. "I don't like meat sauce," he again responded. I was stunned. Apparently my better half, the person I'm supposed to know better than himself likes his spaghetti very plainly covered with just regular old Ragu or Prego sauce. The meat flavored one is lovely, but so is the garden vegetable variety. Apparently for the past five years, I have stupidly ruined perfectly good Ragu sauce as he sadly ate the spaghetti around it. I now understand why he asked me to place the sauce ON TOP of the spaghetti, rather than mix it in with the pasta as I originally did.

Who knew! Makes me wonder who he is at all!

I wonder if we'll end up on Dr. Phil where Sweetie Pie will sadly tell the audience about how I was too busy following Last Comic Standing to ever find out what his interests were.

But hey, Jay Mohr is on my cheating allowed list. So what does he expect! I'm sure if Anna Kournikova's swimsuit special was on, all of sudden, my discussions of how my boy cat seems to be becoming more vocal would all of a sudden seem less interesting to him.

Wait... Are you telling me he doesn't like those two hour long cat conversations either? Who the hell did I marry anyway!!!!

Love,

Catwoman

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