Wiping the Crazy off My Face

My friend Sherri sent this along this morning - it was too funny NOT to share!


March 24, 2008

My Darling Kristi,


I've always wanted to refer to someone as "My Darling", but with my stupid self respect and everything, I never have. Until now.


As you may or may not have noticed, I have been absolutely absent from the world of words. Not that I haven't been using words in my day to day life... cause I totally have. But rather, I have been absent from using written words to delight and entertain The Masses. (My pet name for you is "The Masses", by the way.)

I've been unable to write because for several months, my real life job has served as a super effective funny-sucking Hoover.

Stupid real life. Stupid need to make money so my family can eat food and have electricity.

Some months ago, I was asked to join a business venture that would put me in a management position. (The bend over and take it position for those of you unfamiliar with retail management.) I was to manage sixteen women in an exciting new facility that houses fitness, tanning, massage, dance, and a Bistro.


"That sounds like a super-dilly fun way to earn money and influence people," I said to myself and the owner. Of course I was constructing a model airplane in my air-tight bedroom closet at the time and so completely under the influence of dangerous, but highly enjoyable, noxious fumes.

Mmmm. Noxious fumes.

From that moment on, I've been living in management Hell with sixteen women perpetually poking me with red hot pitchforks while they take turns calling in sick.

"Um, Sher? Um, yeah...I can't come to work today. I've been throwing up all night."

I personally love the "throwing up all night" excuse as it's vague enough to allow any length of recovery time, not serious enough to warrant a doctor's note and plenty gross enough for the OCD Chick not to want them at work.

Sometimes they get a little more creative.

"Sher? Hey Sher. Listen, I can't come to work today because my son stabbed me in the eye with a fork."

Notice the lack of the word "accidentally" as well as the choice of "stabbed" rather than "poked". I knew immediately what was going on here and therefore felt I needed to give her some advice."

I once had a cat that was possessed by the Devil," I explained. "He scratched me and then started hopping around on his tip-toes. I just threw him out in the back yard and figured either Satan would come get him or a neighbor would take him in and raise him. Do you have any neighbors?"

Ignoring my suggestions, she continued weaving her intriguing excuse. "Well, my eyeball is bleeding so I'd better stay home for at least a couple days."

We have a demon possessed child as well as a bleeding eyeball now. I encourage you, The Masses, to utilize this call-off excuse in your own work place as it cannot be countered by The Boss. It comes with a price though, as you'll have to commit to long term wear of an eye patch once you return to your job.

One of the unspoken joys of management is the pleasure of having to fill in for your employees when they are vomiting or have been attacked by Satan's spawn. Some days that means I work from 6AM until 9PM. Some days that means I think I am going to have a day off to live as a human when in reality I am one phone call away from going right back to work.

So there's my excuse for not writing. I've been trapped in reality and have found it entirely un-funny.

But I'm feeling much better now.

Look for me again soon and feel free to hold a telethon in my honor so that I never have to do another honest day's work for the rest of my natural life.


Until next time...I'll be in the closet putting the wings on.



Still wiping the crazy off my face,


Love, Sher