Memoirs Of An Evil Genius: No Place Like Homicidal

March 08, 2008

No Place Like Homicidal

OMG. Argyle is at a bar RIGHT NOW sitting next to FANCY CRANE, and I am out of town and cannot drive to the bar like a lunatic, get all up in her face, and GEEK the FUCK OUT. I AM SO MAD. I AM CRAZED. Seriously. This is NOT FAIR. The Universe is trying to hurt me, right? WHAT IS THIS? No, but I'm really like insane about this. To be fair, Ulrich and I have been out wine-tasting all day, so my judgment is somewhat impaired, but I AM REALLY PISSED ABOUT THIS. I will never speak to Argyle again! HOW DARE SHE MEET FANCY WITHOUT ME! THAT BITCH!

Okay. It's okay. I'm okay now. I swear. I'm...going to breathe. And maybe have more wine. AND SEETHE. No, not that last part. I'm going to practice my Zen breathing and I'm going to be okay. It's all okay.

IT IS NOT OKAY. I am losing my mind. I'm going to cry for a minute, but then I'll be fine. No! I'm fine. Don't worry about me. *sob*

Actually, there are possibly worries needed for my future, because I may commit a murder and be incarcerated. Not Argyle -- I talk a good game, but I could never kill her because there would be no one left who knows how to Swiffer without leaving clumps of residue all over the fucking apartment. (Seriously, why can't I figure this out? I'm a college graduate, people!) No, I am going to assassinate A CERTAIN PERSON I WORK WITH*. I don't want to go into the whole thing because it would just piss me off all over again, and I spent two hours explaining it all to Ulrich yesterday, but the man needs to just die.

Between the passive-aggressive denunciations of my efforts on the job, and the way he a) doesn't listen, b) doesn't communicate, and c) expects me to nevertheless divine exactly what he wants and do it the way he wants it while not listening to me or answering my questions and telling me 'do whatever, I don't care' before then publicly accusing me of screwing things up by not doing what he wanted WHICH HE NEVER TOLD ME OH MY G-D I'M LOSING MY MIND AND I CANNOT STOP SHOUTING WITH WORDS! He seriously ruined my life like eight times on Friday, to the point where everyone sitting in my cubicle area offered to buy me drinks and/or help hide the body.

I am trying to be calm and sensible about this, believe it or not. I am trying to remember to forget about work when I'm not at work, but for reals? This man makes me glad that I may be testifying in court on Monday and unable to go to the office. Let him figure out how to do shit without me for a day.

Except that he won't. He'll just wait and give me a passive-aggressive lecture about how I've wasted time by being subpoenaed and now have to really buckle down to make up for it. That fucker.

Okay. I need to go and practice more Zen breathing. Send help.

*I am changing certain indicators in order to preserve a little privacy. Not that I think THIS PERSON will ever read this? But loose lips sink ships. The person sitting in front of me has been leaning over my wall all day long to talk very loudly about my homicidal impulses, and I don't need to add any fuel to the fire.

March 08, 2008 in A Few Of My Least Favorite Things, Friends: God's Way of Saying "You're Welcome", Interludes, On The Job, Stop Before I Kill You, Stressed For Success, Ulrich | Permalink

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Book 'Em, Dr. No

Dean Koontz: Intensity
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Joanne Harris: Gentlemen and Players
My one complaint about Joanne Harris is that her protagonists tend to be abrasive and unlikeable. Not so here, which is possibly her best to date -- our hero is one of the most enjoyable characters she's developed yet; even the villain has a cunning appeal, and Harris pits the two narratives against each other, ratcheting the suspense as she slowly brings things to a boil.
Mary Roberts Rinehart: The Door
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Janet Evanovich: Visions of Sugar Plums
My mother is a woman obsessed with Janet Evanovich, and she has been insisting for years that I read her interstitial novellas. This is the first, and it's a cute, breezy Christmas tale. There's a supernatural element that wasn't my cup of tea -- too much peanut butter in my chocolate -- but if you're a fan of Evanovich, you'll like it.
John Buchan: The Thirty-Nine Steps
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James E. McWilliams: A Revolution in Eating: How the Quest for Food Shaped America
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Janet Evanovich: Metro Girl
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Heather Graham: The Seance
So bad. SO. BAD. Just...just so bad.
David Kamp: The United States of Arugula: How We Became a Gourmet Nation
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James Patterson: 1st to Die: A Novel
A recommendation from my mother -- she's hooked. I thought it was good, but Patterson's blunt, staccato writing style took some getting used to. Still, if you like procedurals, it's an effective diversion.