Thanks For Answering My Prayer, God
I've been kinda restless, irritable, miserable and self-obsessed lately. When I feel like that I make some adjustments to the daily prayers b/c the usual meditations just won't do the trick. This morning, I asked God for ego deflation.
Upon arrival at my desk, I spilled my coffee all over myself--shirt, pants, socks, shoes, the whole shebang. Thankfully, after I'd completed The Shan rant, "Shit. Shit. Shit. Aaaah, shit!" I began to laugh b/c it was pretty freakin' funny. A waterfall of coffee washed over my desk and my lap was full of coffee, so much so that it looked like I creamed my shorts.
I wasn't going to sit around all day smelling like Dunkin Donuts. I wasn't going to walk around all day enduring the passing glances of strangers, folks who'd have to slap on their poker face while strolling past me, trying hard not to crack an "Ooops she crapped her pants" smile. Hell, I'd laugh at me, too.
So I decided to go home to change. I'd have sent my assistant to THE GAP, but I am damn broke and don't trust her to pick a t-shirt from the sale rack. Then it occurred to me that I couldn't exactly hop on the subway with my crapped pants, wet socks and scowl. No way. (Though now I'm thinking that the subway is EXACTLY where I should have gone. I'd blend right in with the midday freaks.) A colleague told me I should call the car service, have them take me home, wait while I cleaned myself up and bring me back to the Toy dungeon. Perfect, huh? It'd cost me nothing and I could pretend to start the day all over again.
As I impatiently waited for car # 237 to haul my tainted goods to Brooklyn, I stepped in a gigantic pile of greenish-brown dog shit. Awesome! I got to smear dog shit all over the inside of my free ride. Mmmm. Smelled wicked good.
At home, I peeled the clothes off, covered them in SHOUT, gave myself a G.I. shower (hurried cleansing w/ soapy washcloth all over body), got dressed for the second time, ran the stained clothes down to the basement, shoved 'em in the washer and got the hell outta dodge.
The moral of this story: Ask and you shall receive, sucka.
posted by Shannon E. Ennis at
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Upon arrival at my desk, I spilled my coffee all over myself--shirt, pants, socks, shoes, the whole shebang. Thankfully, after I'd completed The Shan rant, "Shit. Shit. Shit. Aaaah, shit!" I began to laugh b/c it was pretty freakin' funny. A waterfall of coffee washed over my desk and my lap was full of coffee, so much so that it looked like I creamed my shorts.
I wasn't going to sit around all day smelling like Dunkin Donuts. I wasn't going to walk around all day enduring the passing glances of strangers, folks who'd have to slap on their poker face while strolling past me, trying hard not to crack an "Ooops she crapped her pants" smile. Hell, I'd laugh at me, too.
So I decided to go home to change. I'd have sent my assistant to THE GAP, but I am damn broke and don't trust her to pick a t-shirt from the sale rack. Then it occurred to me that I couldn't exactly hop on the subway with my crapped pants, wet socks and scowl. No way. (Though now I'm thinking that the subway is EXACTLY where I should have gone. I'd blend right in with the midday freaks.) A colleague told me I should call the car service, have them take me home, wait while I cleaned myself up and bring me back to the Toy dungeon. Perfect, huh? It'd cost me nothing and I could pretend to start the day all over again.
As I impatiently waited for car # 237 to haul my tainted goods to Brooklyn, I stepped in a gigantic pile of greenish-brown dog shit. Awesome! I got to smear dog shit all over the inside of my free ride. Mmmm. Smelled wicked good.
At home, I peeled the clothes off, covered them in SHOUT, gave myself a G.I. shower (hurried cleansing w/ soapy washcloth all over body), got dressed for the second time, ran the stained clothes down to the basement, shoved 'em in the washer and got the hell outta dodge.
The moral of this story: Ask and you shall receive, sucka.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home