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This morning I was so crabby I opted to be quiet rather than lash out at an unsuspecting coworker. I had my ipod on and managed to get through as much work as possible before our never-ending-staff-meeting-from-hell. My favorite coworker and cube-neighbor asked me at around 10:30 if I was feeling OK. I wasn't TALKING enough. I don't think anyone has ever, EVER told me I wasn't talking enough. I mean, I thought my name until I was 10 was "motormouth". (ok, I didn't, but I DID think it was Christabel And instead of Christabel Ann)

I started getting cramps after lunch and that clued me into the crabbiness. I'm feeling much, much nicer now.

I tried to put a load of laundry in to wash my favorite jeans but someone is hogging the machines. I NEED those jeans for date #2 tomorrow night. They would be fine but some drunken fool spilled beer all over me last weekend and I'm not going out with beer-stench on me. I suppose it doesn't matter what jeans I wear. Sigh. I could just wear my other, less well-fitting jeans. It's all about what's inside right?

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ladibug21

March 2009

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