I make it a point not to talk about work, so the short of it is, I worked a really long day (Saturday) and had my very first nervous breakdown. There was weeping, rage, dizziness, that diarrhea churning feeling, the whole bit. Somehow staving off fatigue through the miracle of coffee and cigarettes, I succumbed to sandman when I hit the chesterfield. Thirteen hours of sleep later, except for a surreal snack consisting of a sliver of a cuban sandwich in hour seven, I awoke falsely refreshed.

Fortified by more cigarettes and coffee… I had the brilliant idea of heading down to IKEA. My distorted logic being… “it’s Father’s Day, nobody is going to be there… and I need some retail therapy. ” DEAD WRONG. Throngs of people milling about unfamiliar with shopping in the euro-popish, blonde-wood, brightly colored, stainless-steel clad, salon of oddly named meubles-moderne that is IKEA. Flashing back to my nervous break down from the day before, I nearly had a total agoraphobic super-freakout while wielding the blade from the mulit-tool that I keep in my purse. WHY DOES HERR R. RUN AMOK?, probably because he just wanted to zip in, get a PRODUKT milk frother, and get out.

Praise to the power of capitalism and my creditors… I’m here once again at work…. so how was your weekend?

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