Posted by: tlboehm | December 12, 2009

Brains and Eggs…

Sigh. In the words of Bill Cosby: “I can’t bite on nothin’ somebody’s been thinkin’ with.”

I suppose this latest malaise started Thursday morning. I arrived at work in my usual traffic/teenzomblie/nocoffee induced haze to be met with a voicemail and an email prompt to check the voicemail…three hours and many tears later I had produced the impossible spreadsheet for bendejos…once again buried by the paper monster. I had been so close to daylight I almost needed sunscreen. Almost.

And yesterday at the end of the day, having almost escaped and emotional fileting – it happened. A simple phone call. A casual comment…and my ego is in the toilet again. In a sentence or two I was reminded why I am kept in the back office, away from the people. Specifically those who would be influenced by something feminine and pleasant to the eye. Seems I am best used when amortizing or scaring small children. Of course there was the autoplacate backpeddling verbal save: “you have brains.” OUCH!

And you people wonder why I don’t post my face on multiply.

Truth is, it was funny yesterday, but today it just hurts my little heart. I never asked to be “unpretty” Truly, “smart” was my second choice…no wait. My third or fourth…somewhere behind talented and funny. Hand me that brown paper bag, will you? I have to go out in public today and halloween is over.

Anyway. The passing days are already unkind. I’m only 44 and some parts of me are already scaly, mottled, arid, sprouting hair where no hair has ever sprouted before in colors never rendered on my human canvas…DAMMIT! I don’t want to be noticed for my BRAINS! That only works for zombies and engineers. I want another of my species to look at me and drool. I want to hear “Oh my GAWD you’re HOT! YEAH! Actually, I’d settle for, “gee, you combed your hair today.” Brains are a concilation prize. Seriously.

I suppose I shouldn’t complain but its been years since anyone looked at me and said something nice about my  appearance. even when I ask….”How do I look…” I’m met with “Don’t you know?”

We’re only two weeks away from Christmas. My tree is still in a box. I think I’ll just leave it there. Just please pass me that bag now. I’ve had enough.

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