I can't be held responsible for the things I say or write...


fucking shoot me

fed up..pissed off and ready to get the hell out of here...holy shit i need to get the fuck out of here...i implore any of you, make it swift, make it out of the blue, but just fucking do it already. preferably, the ideal candidate will sneak into my office and knock the silly out of me and get me on workers comp or some fucking thing that will make it so i don't have to look at any more documents....any more boxes....because you know why? when i finish going through the 135 boxes that have my name all over them, there are 150 more surely to follow.

i'm pretty sure there has never been a more negative person than me at this current stage of my misery. i could take the most positive thing in the world and decide to focus on the smallest, most minute negative aspect of it and then rant about it for a solid 5 minutes until i've depressed the hell out of all of those around me. i look like i just had a close encounter with death and am pissed off it didn't win.

just make it quick and out of the blue. you know where you can find me.


i've got a great idea...

tune in soon, hopefully it will be up tomorrow (wednesday)

Q.P. Live and Me

Stick a fork in the wall socket and you will have the ride of your life

i wish i could do that right now. everyday i clear my desk and everyday there is a giant pile of crap right back where i removed the other stuff from...not that it is even work stuff. it just piles up. i have some charts, some yellow paper of information, a muffin and two butters and a hat. why? and how come when i move that stuff it gets replaced by another stack of paper, some post its, a dead lois and some binder clips?

and how come it's always the same tasks just worded differently? some might think that if they can tell exactly what a person is going to say or how they are going to react to what you do that it is a good thing...i might agree if every task i complete or question i ask ends up with me having to do more mindless crap or me being even more confused that before?

and how come on the day that i don't have breakfast at home and have to buy breakfast in the morning that 30 minutes after i eat it, there is free breakfast at work? and how come when i have lunch in the refridgerator...f the spelling...and am halfway through it that the email comes out that there is food leftover for all to enjoy?

why? because it's a puddle of merc, that's why. not just the team, not just the ups but the downs as well. it's all one big giant gargantuan piece of merc floating around in some massive puddle that you just happen to see every now and again...you never step in this puddle because it's impossible to miss...but then again, you could be the piece of merc in the puddle...walking around like a leming doing what everyone else does and be forced


anyway, in case you can't tell, i'm not in the best of moods right now. i'm pretty sure it's because i haven't gone running in a few days...why not? well i went to go run yesterday and i had to stop 5 blocks in because my foot felt like something broke in it...could be round 3 of stress fractures in my foot, but probably is nothing and i'm just a softy...add to that i have stitches in my hand so i can't very well play ultimate because they happen to be in the exact spot the disc rests on your hand.

but i've kind of said fuck it. i'm playing softball tonight. this could be the dumbest thing ever, but i'm doing it anyway. usually i play the outfield, but i can't really throw, so i'll play firstbase...problem with this is that if i get a grounder hit to me, i'll likely jump out of the way of the ball...not because of my hand, but because i'm afraid of the ball..

when i was growing up playing baseball, if i made contact, i'd hit it pretty damn far. problem is, i liked to be sure i wouldn't get hit by the pitch, so i'd usually wait until it was safe to swing before i would swing...this was usually once i heard it hit the catchers mitt. that's a safe time to swing. my dad would stand behind me and yell swing and i'd strike out a lot but i didn't get killed, so i'd have to consider my baseball childhood a success by my standards.

i'm not even kidding about the afraid of the ball thing. i played lacrosse and could take a hit or get slashed by a stick repeatedly. in ultimate, i'd layout on any surface..in basketball, i'd try to dive on the court just for fun...but a softball or a baseball? no way man, that could hurt.

i think that sums up my backwards take on most things in my life. here i am fully aware of what is upsetting me but doing nothing about it...that's apparantly how this day is going to go. maybe i'll wake up tomorrow and feel better.

maybe i'll start posting on this blog again.

maybe i'll discover that this puddle of merc i always refer to will lead me to not be afraid of the ball.

wow, that was deep...i'm a misunderstood character, man.