The Snooze Button.

You know its going to be a day from HELL when.................

You hit the "Off" button instead of "Snooze" and hell if you can remember doing it because you were sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted and half dead.

You wake up, WIDE AWAKE AND HEART POUNNDING, look at the clock and realize in horror and dismay that you should be pulling out of the driveway..... NOW.

You suddenly remember in absolute terror what your travel agent manager husband said about the hotel you booked for your boss as you were drifting off to sleep last night. (Curious? The tidbit was that the 5* hotel you booked for your boss and the Deputy CE of the major investor of the bank has a truly spectacular view of................. a graveyard. What kind of dumb ass builds a 5-star hotel near a freaking graveyard I ask you?)

Just when you thought it was bad enough working 2 hrs past' going home time', some asshat walks up to you, hands you a proposal that MUST be on the desk of the BOARD OF DIRECTORS TOMORROW MORNING. Hint, only one of them lives in the same country I DO.

Its now after 7pm and you are still at work- tried to calm your frazzled nerves by sharing SOME.OF.IT with the internet on your blog, because you have no idea whatsoever when you are going to go home tonight.

See? I seek my blog readers - yes YOU!- for comfort.

And how was your day?


PS: Just so you don't think I'm ungrateful for the work, because I'm truly grateful for the work, realize this: While each of the people at work are stressed with 20 things to do today, NOTHING happens in this Bank without going through ME and my boss first, because, bless his heart, he is a control freak just like me. each of their 20 things, for 8 departments, I have to deal with, from small to big and it is ALL extremely sensitive, confidential material. Plus he has me Assisting the Head of HR until her assistant can start next month and I'm responsible for the Board of Directors.

Come on April 4! That's when my assistant starts working. Whoot!! I love her already. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell y'all. I hired myself an Assistant! Yaay. Hot Damn!

Why Does She Do That?

I'm sure this is the question that goes through the minds of security staff daily. Particulary at my work.

I'll give you all the number one reason I could never be a bank robber or thief in general:

I have this odd habit of making faces at security cameras.

I really do. And I do it a lot. I mean. A. LOT.

In Banks, at ATM machines (my favorite, actually) at work, in elevators, not in stores so much, but sometimes? The urge hits to do it there too! And when I mean make faces? I mean make faces like a 3 year old. Crossed eyes, or bugged eyes (depending on mood) sticking the tongue out at different angles-type faces. Heh.

Juvenile of me, I know, but it's fun. Its an almost uncontrollable urge I have. Silly me.

Imagine me trying to rob a bank or something,hmm? Pull of the heist without a hitch, then... as I try to leave with the loot I pass a security camera and.......

*makes face, sticks tongue out* sings "nyah nyah nyah nyah nyaaaah nyaaaaahhhhhhhh!" *shakes butt*

Not that I'd ever want to or anything. Rob a bank. But you know what I mean.

Right? *makes a face*

Welcome To My NIGHTMARE

Otherwise known as "nyah nyah nyah nyah Nyahhhhh NYAAAAAH DAD!".

*cue "Under the Sea" song from Little Mermaid now*

Perhaps some of you long-time Haven readers may recall my little dislike of sharks and deep water swimming? The whole debate with my Daddy at the age of around 7 or so about the dangers?

It was really his damn fault in the first place. He figured making me READ the book Jaws when the movie was out (cause there was no way I would go see it) would make me overcome my fears.

Big Mistake DADDY.

You also might recall that he always told me they would never come near shore. (nice try). And I am quite positive that he was just saying that to make me calm the hell down as I clung to his neck out DEEP in the water, cutting off his air with my deathgrip. Yeah, quite possible, now that I look back on the situation. That realization did nothing to stop me from rubbing it in his face a few years ago (read: 25 years + later) when some poor sucker standing waist deep - if that- off a Florida beach (where I grew up and said choking incident of my father way-the-hell-out-so-far-people-on-the-beach-looked-like-termites occured, mind you!) was killed, or chomped on by a shark. whatever.

Fast forward to today. While I am cruising through CNN (God bless them). I read. THIS.

This is exactly the kind of shit I was worried about. A 20 ft shark? Tore that poor bastard IN HALF while snorkeling.

I can only hope he didn't know what the fuck hit him. Its enough, really, that I do. 20. Foot. Shark. That is one big damn shark, no?

*shudder*

*Dad, I TOLD YOU SO!!!!!!! (Let me enjoy it. I mean, I've rarely ever been able to say that to him, and consider living to brag about it!!)