FTW

My husband just dared me to drunk-blog. Challenge accepted. Rough day. Rough couple of weeks actually. Hell, it's been a rough time since the summer.
Shit's been awful, really. We're talking need a pill to sleep awful, but I digress.
What the hell does that mean, "I digress". Hang on, shit, spell-check is enabled. No wonder I sound so scholarly and shit. It's like those Fords that park themselves. How is anyone supposed to think about not hitting a curb if the friggen car is like Luke Skywalker and is like, "Hell yea. I'm all over this curb like a light saber". We've got software that baby sits our damn spelling. Doesn't matter. I spell like a star anyway.
Do you know how hard it is to work under pressure? Do you?!
Imagine being a spellchecker living in a PC. The stress would kill you. There wouldn't be enough Lipitor in the world to calm that verbal nightmare.
I once had a client who spent an entire week prepping me for "lunch day". By the time Friday rolled around, I'd never been so fucking excited about food before in my entire life. When I showed up for this "lunch day", I was greeted with a box of stale timbits and bottled water. "The hell?" I said. "Where's lunch?"
Bitch was talking the whole time about LAUNCH day. You know how many people were cc'd on that email? Hundreds. Not one person had the balls to tell this VP and CEO that it was LAUNCH.
I did.
So we're best friends. True story.