A Day In The Life

The Guv'ner's not a morning person. I know this probably astounds every last one of you since I practically ooze perkiness and good, solid, upstanding sanity from each of my pores, but alas it's true. Mornings and I are rivals. Deadly combatants if you will. One day I shall be God and mornings will be outlawed along with broccoli, frat boys, anything to do with Bon Jovi and the blatant display of women flaunting their visible muffin tops in public.

Unfortunately mornings are the time I have to drag my reluctant carcass out of bed and into the cold to get to a place where I shiver at a desk while listening to outbursts from the Dark Überlord such as, "My mouse is acting funny!" (The obvious answer is "Stop tickling it and give it some cheese, chulo!") and "What do I do with this document?" (which provokes so many retorts in my head my brain just imploded with the scope of it all.)

I don't like to talk in the mornings because my brain is still waking up. If it's before 11 a.m. please use sign language and pass me notes or I will growl and run my finger suggestively along the business end of my axe while smirking at you menacingly. If you must talk, do it fast then run like your pants are on fire. Hang around any longer and take it from me, they will be.

One thing it’s good not to do in the morning is call me on the phone and try to sell me something I don’t need, don’t want and would bludgeon you over the head with if you were trying it in person. Think of it this way? Would you want it rammed up your ass? Then there you go, sport.

I do appreciate when the maintenance guy shows up first thing and offers to fix my wiring (!) but I can do without the stunning vista of his ass crack as he’s crouching down with his trusty screwdriver. There’s enough cleavage down there to store an entire tool kit. Any minute now he’s going to produce a hack saw and a step ladder from its deep recesses and I will have to stick pencils in my eyes to erase that image from my psyche.

Afternoons are OK though. I’ve eaten, I’ve had coffee and I am running laps of the office really fast (depending on the amount of coffee) and I will talk to anyone, no matter who it is and sometimes even inanimate objects or just myself if no one else is available (or they’re hiding). Although why would anyone hide from the Guv’ner? I will accomplish thirteen tasks at once, find something I lost in 2005 and sing to myself while I do it. I will enthusiastically use big words and join them all together in one monster sentence because I can. I am caffeine woman. I am filled with fake energy and twitchy limbs all desperate to run in five directions at one time.

I will spurt random sentences for no reason:

New Zealand is Australia's Canada!

You smell like sick!

Matt Frei from BBC America World News has a ginormous, papier machier head!

The capital of Bosnia is Sarajevo!

Oprah eats babies!

Hey at least they're all true.