Congratulations! YOU have been chosen for the DirectBuy Showroom Experience!

Jeez, I just haven't felt like writing these days. One, it's been really busy at work. Like, really really busy. I guess that's not such a big problem. It's all pretty interesting stuff...not TOO much bullshit. Two, C's been furloughed, so he's home a lot, so I don't have endless stretches of time at night to catch up on my blogging. Three, my life is just really boring. Nothing exciting is happening, not even in the bathroom at the office, which is where I find a lot of my inspiration.

Honestly, these days, people just go in the bathroom, do their business and come right out. It's excruciating.

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Speaking of the bathroom, however, today after lunch I had to go, but I had my shoes off. On a side note, the shoes I'm wearing today are the Most. Uncomfortable. Shoes. I've ever worn. Hands down. I feel like even if they had made them out of fiberglass and razor blades and scorpion stingers they still might feel like angels wings compared to how they are right now. But they're cute, and I bought new clothes last night, and they are currently the only pair of brown shoes I own that aren't tore up in at least one place.

Anyway, so, I took them off because they hurt even when I'm sitting at my desk (!!!!!) and then all the sudden I had to pee so bad I couldn't stand it. Needless to say, I strongly considered running down the hallway of the conservative law firm that I work for and going to the bathroom with no shoes on, but I thought better of it. Having done that it took like TEN MINUTES to strap on my heinous shoes, all the time bent over and daring my bladder to explode.

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I made the awful mistake of giving the DirectBuy Showroom my work number. I'm not usually one to buy into TV infomercial bullshit like this, but I REALLY need a new bed and I don't want to A. drive to Chicago for IKEA or B. spend a lot of money. Anyway, I underestimated how very serious these people are about selling deep discount furniture. You'd think it was a discount showroom for cancer cures or something. Listen, I appreciate fervor for slashed prices, but enough is enough already.

Anyway, stupidly I filled out an online form, because in order to get into the top secret showroom you have to have an invitation and an appointment. And this lady calls me and gives me this total guilt trip about how I can only bring C and we have to have our IDs and birth certificates, hair samples, medical records, tax forms and proof of income (this one we actually do have to bring) and are we SURE we can make it on our appointed day, because if not we'll be stealing -literally STEALING- the opportunity to buy quality furniture at closeout prices from another family.

Of course I was like "sure whatever, we'll be there" but now I think we probably wont be there. Partly because we have shit to do tomorrow and I don't have money for a bed right now anyway, and also because if the sales people at the DirectBuy Showroom are anything like the woman on the phone, I will instantly be so irritated by them that I won't buy anything on principal.

What started all of this is that the f-ing DirectBuy Showroom lady JUST called AGAIN to confirm our appointment. In the middle of my work day. So I picked up the phone, let the sounds of my busy office fill the receiver, and hung up on her. Is that serious enough for you?!

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I think I mentioned this, but I bought Oliver a new bed; it's like a sleeping bag for dogs that he can burrow inside so he won't shiver all night and make me feel like an asshole in my nice warm bed. Anyway, it came and it turns out that he is just. too. dumb. to figure it out. This morning, even after I spent a long time last night showing him the opening and gently guiding shoving his little nose inside I woke up and there he was...on top of the bed and shaking like a leaf. It must be hard to be so dumb. Seriously.

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Well, I'm sick of writing for now.