Headphones in the sauna

So I just finished a fabulous workout and I decided to wind down for a few minutes in the sauna afterwards. I switch out of my sneakers and into my flip flops, grab a towel to sit on and go stroll over to what promises to be a nice, relaxing 10 minutes.

Shoot. There's someone else in there. I kind of love it when I'm the only one in there, but oh well. We can relax together.

So I settle in on my towel and close my eyes. Ahhh... the cedar smell, the crackling of the stones, the warmth letting all the stress of the day lift out of me...

...and apple bottom jeans, boots with fur, the whole club was looking at her...

That freaking girl has her headphones on blast! Are you kidding me? If I was wearing panties under these spandex workout shorts, they be all in a bunch over this. All of the sudden, I can't relax. The cedar smell is gone, the stones aren't crackling and the heat is just making me sweat.

All I hear is that stupid song.

Oh, and did I mention that she's doing half her workout in there, too? I thought about farting just to clear her out of there, but didn't. Probably should have.

Crybabies

Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

Mustangs

As in Mr. I'm a Big Bad Ass Vroom Vroom. Puh-lease.

I can't stand Mustangs. I think I may have actually wanted one a (long) while ago, but now? That's gonna be a hell no. In fact, I think if I ever had a date and the guy came to pick me up in a Mustang, I probably wouldn't even answer the door. If I did accidentally answer the door without realizing what he was driving, I'm quite sure I wouldn't get in the car.

Vroom vroom off, Big Bad Buddy. You undoubtedly speed around corners too fast, take off from red lights too fast and wear your hat backwards. It's never going to work between us. Sorry.

It's such a type. From now on, if you haven't already done so, pay attention to who's stealing Sally next time you pull up next to one. You'll see.

Working after 5 on Fridays

Like today. And every other week. I know there's a ton of people at happy hour right now (or, at the very least at home doing nothing), and I'm sitting in a cubicle.

Not that my cubicle isn't lovely, it's just that I've had enough of it by this time of the week, and I'm ready for an adult beverage or 10. And since happy hour ends at 7, the longer I stay here, the more expensive my night gets.

On the bright side... it is payday, so that's always a plus.

Helmet-heads

Remember when it was only retarded (um, mentally challenged) people who wore helmets? What happened?

All of the sudden, every kid is riding around on their bikes, Roller Blades, skateboards, etc. with helmets on. And knee pads. And elbow pads. And shin guards. And SPF 185 lotion. Are all the rugrats you people are popping out lately really that clumsy?

Back when I was a kid, my mom sent me out to play... and that's it. I didn't have to strap on 15 different apparatuses before braving the big bad world. I would go out there, jump on my bike, bust my ass like a good girl and report back for a Band-aid and some Neosporin.

And believe me, after a couple good ass-bustings, we'd solve that falling problem pretty damn fast. Ouch, that hurts... I think I'll stop doing that. Tada!

But I don't know. Maybe kids nowadays are a little, well, challenged. Every other one is allergic to peanuts or wheat or sugar or something funky like that. Snack time is officially ruined because Jimmy can't eat peanut butter crackers and Suzie can't have Nilla Wafers. Whatever.

Bunch of wimps we got coming up here. We think we have special people running this country now... Heh. Just give it 25 years. We'll see how it is when this generation is all grown up.

Wet handprints on paper towels

Picture this: A roll of paper towels in a public kitchen, break room, wherever. You wash your hands, you reach for a dry paper towel to dry them off... and there's a soggy handprint on in. Now, surely this person washed their hands, so you can assume the soggy palmed towel is OK -- but seriously.

Gross. I don't want to know that someone else fingered my paper towel right before me.

Let's not be barbarians people. Don't be nasty. When I want to dry my hands, I want a dry paper towel. I don't want to have to go three sheets deep to get to one that finally isn't drenched by your nasty ways.

And if it's not asking too much, you think you can actually tear it off neatly please? That little bit of YOUR paper towel left behind is pretty annoying, too. Thanks.