This day is retarded

Fridays are supposed to be fun days. Last day of the work week, start of the weekend, I get to wear jeans to work -- I mean, come on people, what's better than that?! (Well, wearing jeans everyday to work would be nice, but I digress.)

So what the ef is life doing to me by giving me a speeding ticket on my way to work this morning? That's bullcrap. It is so totally not fair that I got caught. Ger. Plus, going 59 in a 40 is not technically speeding. I mean, who goes freakin' 40 miles per hour? Grannies, that's who.

And then, I can't even goof off properly today. People keep calling here as if this is a place of business and they are going to buy something.

I thought perhaps I might get a little break when my boss asks me if I wanted to have lunch with her at the new casino that opened up yesterday. Why yes I do! Sounded like a great idea until about 20 minutes after getting our order taken, the waiter comes out and said the cooks hadn't even started on our food. Excuse me, I had a salad. If someone is cooking my salad, we definitely have some problems.

And the icing on the cake? The bookstore's espresso machine was el-broke-a-mundo. Waaah! No coffee-breath for me today. It just wasn't meant to be.

There is an upside to this day -- I got to see my baby! I picked her up when she got home from church camp and I could have kissed her all over. And get this: she missed me, too. Ahhhh. So love that girl.