Sh

Shocked: that Blogger has kept me logged on finally when I go to make a new post. Since I switched to this version I have had to log on every time I go into it, even when I don't close the browser, and even though I religiously check the "Remember Me" box in the log on page. I have now not had to do this for the last three posts.

Short: tempered. I am working in a branch with quite possibly the biggest boob on the planet in the form of a lender who doesn't get that WE ARE NOT OUT TO GET HIM, and it's HIS gig that is the reason his files are so flipping hard to close and are just enormous clusterfucks. On top of that I am covering two escrow officers' desks, which isn't that bad actually because the assistants are rock stars and one of the desks is kind of slow. I had some good outbursts yesterday, replete with f-bombs and rapid-fire-sometimes-nonrelated strings of words that, in the end, seemed to be both amusing to my coworkers and soothing to my mood. Plus I smoke a lot. The days just CRUISE by, though, when you are this busy. I feel like it's 2003 or something.

Shredded: something must be done about these little kittens' razor-sharp claws. Yesterday morning they drew so much blood I had to wait to put on my pants. Fun is jumping on to my lap while I drink my coffee and read the news on the net. It's fun because we are all working on our upper body strength and the kitties are really learning to rely on their claws. They weigh like 8 ounces or something, but you throw that dead weight on the end of 10 little razors and then clamp them on my bare thigh, well, there's gonna be some blood.

And a sidenote - I am STUNNED and AMAZED that I did not purchase lotion when I foolishly hit the Fred Meyer on Saturday. Totally forgot people actually cook anymore on Thanksgiving, judging from the crowds at the Charthouse last year. Every single person on the planet was at the Fred Meyer. But I managed to get my groceries bought and was all proud that I wouldn't need to go to a supermarket for a good solid two weeks... until this morning when the lotion sputtered and died. Dang it. I guess, what, Rite Aid at lunch? What choice do I have? Foolish, foolish, non-list-making Virgo...