Holy Gods, Tuesday. Did you SERIOUSLY just do that to me?

Oy VEY today was a day.
IN one part of my life I've made two new friends, both of whom will be tremendously influential on the next few weeks of my life.

One is from China, and she's a gorgeous new intern at my office who is helping with the workload out there and giving me all kinds of good exuses to talk about the party tricks I know in Excel.

And the other is a secret, but he's from Poland and his name is Tappi and I love him dearly and before too much longer I know you will too.  No, it's not a dog.  You'll just have to be patient.

The rest of today was kindof heinous.  In a harlmessly rude way.  You know, like when someone farts in the elevator.

Four hours of work, you guys.  I'm building this spreadshet out of ACRES of "return to sender" envelopes and I get to like, row 200 or something and then YAY I AM DONE!  Huzzah!  I rush to my mentor and tell him I'm all finished and shall now triumphantly send my completed spreadsheet directly to his inbox.

Scene two:  I get to my computer and Le File is Le Gone.  No Shit.  I see the original one I started with... but not the big filled in one with all the data.  And before you start going all "KF, you dummy" on me, let me remind you that I am a compulsive saver and do a good SAVE command for roughly every ten lines of data entered.

Cue Guts On Floor.

It is brown trouser time, folks.  WHERE. THE HELL.  You know?  This is impossible.  I go to my recent documents.  I go to the excel-specific "here's what you've f'ed with recently" place too.

Nuffink.

I go to the temporary files thingy and the downloads hoopamabob.  That's what they call things in IT.  Don't you deny it.

It's gone.  It's 6.00
So I take it in stride, like I do, because CLEARLY I was feeling far too adept at things and the ol' universe was waiting for me and had an absolute BALL today standing behind me going "DING!  DUMBASS BILL IS DUE!"  and lo.  I did something stupid and now the work is gone.

But like I said, I took it in stride.  I'll just do it again.  allll over again.  No problem.  If the head doesn't work, the hands have to.  ANd so they shall.  But it was late and dark out and rainy and seriously cold as hell for just 40 degrees out (frakkin' humidity and its capacity for lustily gobbling up my body heat)...

Anyway it was time to go home.

For everyone.
On the planet.
Who lived in DC.
Which calculates to roughly eighty hojillion people who wanted to be in my car on the yellow line.  A train, by the way, which was delayed about twenty extra minutes.  For no perceptible reason. 

We were packed in there pretty tight but nobody was really smashed in.  We all still had a perfectly polite amount of space between each other as we stood there in the jittering, jumbling train that lurched through the reflective darkness toward what we all exhaustedly hoped was our home(s).

Sure, I was feeling nauseous because I was standing kindof hinkerly and facing not really forward.  And sure it was dark out and my eyeballs could offer me no real confirmation as to which way "forward" was.  So my ears did what they did best and ran in screaming hysteria to the ol' control deck there and pressed every button they could find that even vaguely resembled the 'evacuate' button. 

I was feeling, frankly, rather grim. 

By about halfway through the trip, I noticed I was clutching my hold-ee-up-ee bar in a rather panicky white knuckle-y fashion.  I was leaning forward at such an angle as to be almost interfering with the nice young woman trying to ignore me from her seat.  I noticed a shuffling kind of pressure on my shoulderblade.  Goddamit.  Again.  I leaned forward again and leered sickly over my shoulder just as the train lurched forward again. 

Some apple shaped jackass (you know what he looks like, they all look like this) was doing his honest best to "accidentally" fall onto me and kinda rub up against me in that reaaaaaaly skeepy creeepy kind of way that we warn our kids about.

Now if I had had my wits about me, which I remind you all soundly that I very much did not, I would have clean and pure thrown up all over him for his tresspass.  That greedy, filthy old apple shaped bastard with his pancake hat and his "trust me I sell cars" grin would have deserved every fresh ounce of it.

But I did not, sadly, have my wits about me.  No, gentle readers, what I did was what I was programmed to do.  I left the train.  Rule number 1, kids.  Avoid the situation.  Rule number 2 is walk or run away.  No exceptions.  Ever.  That lecherous prick was going to have to get his gigglejollies off of some other poor sap.  He wasn't even going to have the pleasure of being vomitted on.  I just stepped angrily past him and got off the train (dizzy with nausea, too, by the way) and then there I was on an abandoned, dark as night, iced-over-with-virginia-rain train platform.  And it was raining.
And it was windy.  And if I had had any of the gods within arm's reach at that very moment I'd have shouted something very offensive right in his (or her) face.  Yes sir. 

Lucky for me, I just had the darkness and the relentless pitter patter of the rain.  Which, out here, is such a very different creature from what I'm used to that I must remember to tell you about it in more detail when I'm in a better mood.

I stood in the stinking, leaking shelter at the farthest end of the platform and waited my dutiful 20 minutes for the next train.  It was blessedly bereft of creeptacularness.  I boarded, sat down with a damp squish, and set my mind to the titanic effort of not shivering.

Upon achieving my destination, I found my car.  I unlocked it with desperate ease and started to put myself together.  Not so bad, I thought.  I can recover.  I'll just start over on the spreadsheet and mister touchy-feely can go spread his herpes to his couch.  No harm, no foul.

I stopped at the grocery store on the way home.  I know, you're bracing yourself, arent' you!

Isn't this exciting?

Well, I'll let you off the hook now.  I didn't forget my purse or anything - just the grocery list.  So I stormed into that grocery store like a woman on fire and I bought milk and fruit and, like, bagels or something fierce like that and then just took my piddly little purchases (none of which were on the list, mind you) home. 

Ahhh.  First world problems.

So that's my tuesday.  It sucked.
Could have been worse.  Gods know that it could have been about ten thousand times worse at about ten thousand different poits during the day.

So now that I have tomorrow off I will put all this rotten energy into something fruitful... probably.

OR at least that's the plan right now. 

Can NOT be happier to be over with today though.  Gots to keeps it all in perspective. 
And with a good night's sleep *heh*  all shall be well again.  Right?  Right?

Right?