Tuesday $0.02

What's this picture got to do with anything? Nothing. Nothing at all. I just thought it was cute. And since my sister in law can post pictures with impunity on cuteness alone, darn it, so can I. Occasionally the cat decides I've done enough writing and he walks across and drops on my journal like a warm sack of crap. Then I slide him off and keep going. And yes, sometimes I write on PAPER with an ACTUAL PEN. Crazy, huh?

Today was the second day I was out on the road, doing my thing in my plush 1999 Dodge Caravan luxury company car with the busted AC. I spent most of today mashing the seek button looking for music that didn't irritate the bejeebus out of me. I had to settle for morning DJ's talking about fish sandwich farts and the eleventy millionth playing of Cheap Trick's Surrender. Please. What would it cost me bribe-wise for them never to play that song again? I'd seriously consider a small personal loan to make this happen. Every time I hear it it makes a little less sense and a piece of my soul dies.

Think you can get all the way through it? Okay, smartypants.

The heat makes me cranky. I drove through Ithaca today, normally one of my favorite places, but I wasn't in the mood for the dreadlocked smelly hippie Earth Motherlyness of it today. So I skipped the co-op and swung into Wegmans for my mid-trip pee and coffee (known as the drop-off and pick-up) but had to skip the pickup because, inexplicably, there were 29 members of the Red Hat Society in line for coffee. Even their hip oldlady cuteness was annoying.

Yesterday I wore a skirt because, again, it was ninety-plus degrees and it was the lightest thing I own. I quickly remembered why I NEVER wear skirts in my line o' work, because the customer's border collie followed me around for several minutes sticking his head underneath it so he could smell my butt while I surreptitiously whacked him on the head with a plastic clipboard, counting on my skirt to muffle the crack of it making contact with his skull. Dog owners: please, when your dog sticks his nose in a visitors butt, particularly when they are wearing a SKIRT, please do not chuckle, DO NOTHING, and say "He's got to know who everyone is!" If that is the case, this dog now knows I'm someone who was ten seconds away from kicking him in the chest when he was finally dragged off by the collar and sequestered with their third shift- working son, asleep in a back bedroom.

Tonight I put on my Treasurer hat for the Ambulance Association meeting, which in my usual fashion I will diffuse the tension of by sketching amusing cartoons of my fellow EMTs during the meeting while looking like I'm taking copious notes. I hope its a do it and git done kind of enterprise because my tolerance for man-drama is short today.


Trudge on over to Humor Blogs, where no one ever puts their nose in your butt. Unless you want them to.