5:10 p.m. - 2004-05-18
crap
I know I am stressed to the max (ew, that sounds so 80's and dated) anyway...I know when I am overly stressed when I keep saying under my breth "ok....oooh-kay...everything is going to be just...fine....ok" as I run around like a maniac. This has been one of those days.
Also occuring today:
My boss spit on me. No kidding. Not like on purpose or anything...but a serious shower of spittle, right on my boob. I mean, on my t-shirt where my boob is. that is enough of THAT word in this entry...sheesh. Anyway, it was one of those that is so bad, you have to acknowledge it. You know, if it's just a tiny bit, you can both pretend you didn't notice...but this was like a big foamy spray....and, since she is the quintessential "close-talker", there was no dodging this bullet. It like, left wet marks on my shirt. The acknowledgement was horribly, horrendously awkward. "OH, geez, whoa, Jessi, I'm sorry" Picture me wide eyed and dismayed and kind of grossed out...paralyzed with awkwardness. She reaches out her hand, in that, Oh, I made a mistake, therefore I must physically touch the mistake way, at which point, I quickly turned away to avoid any further embarrasment of inappropriate trauma-motivated touching. When I looked down, there was seriously like spitty foamy NAST on my shirt. Of course at this point, I'm going "Oh, no don't worry, it's fine." And so now she's off again, talking about whatever she started talking about before she spit (spat?) on me. SO, now I'm faced with the decision...do I casually wipe it away, or do I wait until I can go to the bathroom? It could be a while before she finishes this close-talking story. I nix the bathroom idea, as we are anticipating the impending arrival of legions of old people (my volunteers) and I don't want to encounter them with this **** on my shirt. Those old ladies are so prone to point things out and question them....what would I tell them???? "Oh that, oh it's nothing... it's just Robin's spit." NO, that won't do. So...inwardly cringe..and...I...casually....wipe....burshing the spit....to wherever thigns go when you wipe them (basically spread out germy-germ style on your hands) This could be a freaking anti-bacterial hand soap commencial. Ew and ew. I am a hard core wonder-woman diva of a person, aren't I? I will probably get a cold.
