Blue Streak

I was home alone at my work station, doing my usual mix of tasks plus chatting with customers on the computer, answering their questions via email and the phone.

Answering customer questions mostly consists of copying and pasting what is already posted on site or reading aloud the site descriptions. After 8 years, I have noted that lots of women don't bother to read product descriptions. I'm not sure if men read them either but men don't ask any questions except, "How fast can you get it here? Will you overnight? My wife's birthday is tomorrow."

I field questions all day long. Ladies call to ask how wide a bracelet is when it says it is 1 inch wide right in the description. Women call to ask if a 16 inch necklace will fit them. They need me to tell them to measure their necks. Lonely older people phone just to talk about items from their past. Lazy people who don't want to do their own research call to inquire how much their own vintage jewelry is worth or to get free appraisals. I find much of this intercourse irritating but I am always polite. Some callers are very long-winded. Some don't listen to the answers to their questions. Some won't shut up long enough for me to even answer their questions.

So I was as usual, doing about half a dozen things at once, including answering the phone, watching the hurricane weather loops on my desktop, paying scant attention to two different channels on two different tubes, feeding doggie cookies to The Bubba, typing, surfing, writing orders, whatever else I could fit in when my patience ran out. I wonder what it is like to only do one thing at a time? Women have always been excellent multi-taskers and it took some nerd dude in the information age to come up with a term for it, but before I get off on another rant...

At 4-ish in the afternoon as is my custom, I took a little break. The phone comes off the hook and I take a few minutes to myself about this time every day. I stretch my legs and usually have a loud and colorful conversation with myself.

Just myself.
Out Loud.
Really vocal.

You might say that I was sort of screaming vile oaths and cussing like a sailor to de-stress and congratulate myself upon my amazing powers of self-restraint. I get tired of having to be nice all day. I like to swear. It's good to get the foul mouth wound down before the evening begins so I have taken to cussing up a blue streak most afternoons. I enjoy neutralizing my frustration as I string tacky words into combinations that would make a teamster blush.

I was enjoying my personal little screaming fit. I didn't hear the door open as W4D let himself in.

"Wow. Who are you talking to?" asked the Lubricator.

"Ummm..... No one. You're home early."

"Who's here?"

"No one is here."

"Were you cussing someone out on the phone?" W4D asked as he peered around the corner and looked into the office, then the hall.

"Nope. Just practicing my cussin."

W4D, a confused look on his face asked, " You swear like that when there's no one around?"

"Yep. What of it?" :::glare::::

"I think I'll take the dog for a walk."

"Excellent idea."

I cooked W4D a pork chop, fresh Brussel sprouts and mashed potatoes slathered in butter.


Comfort food for DH.

I ate sautéed asparagus, mushrooms, a sweet pepper and grape tomatoes for myself.


Diuretic veggie dinner.

Yes, there are two slices of baguettes there. I should be thin as a rail but I am not. I think one can inhale calories.

So be it.
I'll just keep cussin.'