Where I Stood

Ugh. My jaw looks as though someone just decided to haul off and punch me. I had a really bad experience with Percoset yesterday, resulting in severe nausea and dizziness. I had my mouth assaulted by an oral surgeon, resulting in one less wisdom tooth cramping my jaw's style.

Hurray.

In other news, my job blocked blogging sites, so I'll have to save funny work shit for when I get home. On the positive side, I'll be doing a lot more blogging in my pajamas. Rowrrr. It'll be The Nighttime Confessions of a Crazed and Oppressed Receptionist. Or the mid-morning. You get the idea. It'll be scandalous, racy, a tad sexy, and as always, absolutely insane. I promise it'll be better than Sarah Palin's memoir. And all my -ing words will end with a "g".

Hmm...As some of you know, I have an irrational fear of squirrels. Why, I'm not entirely sure, though I think it has something to do with my dad telling me that if I got bitten by one I'd have to get ten shots in my stomach or I'd die of rabies. That could explain me avoiding them like The Plague. Well, usually I just go about my day and stomp my foot if a rogue squirrel is doing his/her squirrel thing in my general vicinity. Now...I will cross the street if they don't run away. The other day I actually felt a twinge of panic when I walked past one eating an acorn on my street. Panic. Like actual fear. I'd recommend therapy, but I'm sure the psychiatrist would either laugh at me or tell me my fear of the squirrel is a metaphor for how I hate my mother.

But I love my mom. I just have a weird, completely illogical phobia of squirrels. Thank God it's nearly winter and those nefarious critters will be off in their trees, jacking off or sleeping or watching NHL or whatever the hell it is that squirrels do in their spare time.

Any suggestions on how to get over this insanity are welcome.