Tool Selection

Could be someone I know, someone I don't know, fictional characters, dead people. I don't care, I'm an equal opportunity complainer when it comes to complete dickwads.

Wherever there's a Complete Tool, I'll follow closely behind with my anonymous bitching. 'Cuz that'll show 'em.

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Thursday, March 25, 2010

What's A Girl Gotta Do To Get Some R&R Around Here?

  • A: Just ask for some time to herself.  I mean hell, her husband's a perfectly reasonable guy who can see she's clearly at the end of her rope.  He'd be happy to take the kids off of her hands for a few hours while she gets her shit straight.
  • B: Book a trip to a day spa and lie to her husband.  "There's a big work convention on the other side of town today.  We're going to have to take separate cars.  See ya at 6:00!"
  • C: Stage a world class freak-out.  Scare everyone enough to toss you into a mental hospital.  I hear they have to keep you there for, like, 3 days for observation.
  • D: Book a trip to your oral surgeon to get a wisdom tooth removed.  Hell, drugs and all the naps you want.  Fuckin' SCORE!!

So, let's see how we did here.  If you selected:

  • A: You're obviously new to my blog.  Mr. A would rather scuba dive naked and weaponless in blood-infested shark territory than watch the kids for more than about an hour at a time.
  • B: I'm the worst liar on the planet.  It also doesn't help that Mr. A is the most suspicious person on the planet.  Put us both together and I'm the most honest woman alive and he knows where I'm at and what I'm doing better than I do.  This will come in handy if I'm ever kidnapped, I'm sure.
  • C: You're close.  I'm probably capable of this and over the last couple of weeks I've actually (not seriously) considered the upsides of this plan.  However, being labeled a crazy person and possibly a potential danger to myself and others -- particularly my children -- is not a part of the plan that I can live with, so this will never work.
  • D: DING DING DING DING DING.  You get a cookie.  
After my last appointment with my dentist, I was advised to get my wisdom teeth pulled.  Not that they were really bothering me, but they occasionally do.  I have one -- oh, excuse me, had one -- that was fully grown in and that one was a pain in the ass.  It grew in sideways, so it was always pressing into my cheek.  It was also hard to get a tooth brush back there, so when the dentist discovered a cavity in it, there was no way I was going to be able to muster a convincing shocked face.

Up until the time I sat in the chair at the oral surgeon's office, I was determined to get all 4 of my teeth ripped out at once.  The surgeon showed me a "What To Expect" video, then explained to me that it was not really all that urgent to get all 4 of the teeth out.  The one that was grown in, yes.  Absolutely, no doubt, but the other 3 could wait potentially up to 10 more years.  So, that's when I had an idea.  An awful idea.  A wonderful, awful idea.

If I were to get each of my teeth removed one at a time, then that would be 4 occasions that I could just sit by myself in my room.  Movies, computer, books, water, chocolate pudding, Percoset.  NO KIDS, NO WORK KIDS, NO WHINY CLIENTS, NO MISMANAGER, NO MR. A.

I am an evil fucking genius.