Just some random hell from my daily existence....

I went to lunch at Denny's (shut up...I like breakfast food, just not at breakfast time. Denny's lets me have french toast whenever I want). Anyway, our server's name was Wesley. I learned this because he told us to just yell out "Wesley" if we needed anything. Wesley was WAY too happy in his role as waiter at Denny's. My friend and I determined that Wesley was either a.) on drugs, or b.) a psychopath. Please understand, we weren't being judgemental...this guy was bouncing off the walls in his love of being a Denny's server. He also felt the need to tell stupid jokes:

Wesley: "I knew you needed the straws. I have ESPN."

Wesley then felt the need to come back to our table and interrupt our conversation to say, "You know, I wasn't kidding about the ESPN. I have football on the brain all the time." Wesley then proceeded to tell us, in excrutiating detail, how he couldn't wait till Sunday because his "favorite team" was playing (although, in his monologue, he failed to mention which team it was).

Since I wasn't wearing my shoulder pads or football jersey at the time, I don't know how he figured me to be a televised sports fan, but, apparently in Wesley's world, EVERYONE'S a fan and EVERYONE wants to hear Wesley's take on the season so far.

Plus, he called the straws "the sucky things".

In the world of work, there's a written project I've been working on for the state office. I have rewritten this thing countless times, only to be told that it wasn't exactly what they were looking for and to write it yet again. I decided enough was enough and came up with an evil plan. I met with the state office person, flicked my blonde hair, and stated, in my most perfect dumb blonde voice, "I'm just not getting what information you need. Could you help me out?" I basically conned her into writing the whole thing for me and then to make a copy of it so I could use it as a "guide". Yeah, right.

I went back to my office, typed it out exactly the way she wrote it, and sent it in to her. I just got an email from her stating that this seemed better, but it still needed a few corrections. That's right, I'm supposed to "correct" her own freaking words!

Man, I so want my own business.