Somebody call The Times!

I am weaning myself off caffeine.
I apologize in advance.
My employees no longer consider this a threat, merely a lofty declaration quickly forgotten in the neon glow of the soda fountain. Which, btw, is the only time you will hear me say soda. I'm from the South. 'Soda' and 'Pop' are just wrong. Thank you to dooce for unknowingly backing me up on this issue.

Have you read dooce? Of course you have. Not since the discovery of white chocolate covered gummi bears have I been in such awe. Have you had white chocolate covered gummi bears? No? Please, run to Sweet Factory, get yourself an outrageously priced bag of melty yet chewy goodness and read dooce. If it weren't midnight, that's what I'd be doing.

Night-night Everyone.
Aren't you proud - this is obviously a blogging record for me, two days in a row!

Child-Proofing Gone Wrong

On Desperate Housewives last night (hey, it's fun, leave me alone) Lynette's sparring partner of a neighbor, Mrs. McCluskey (played by Kathryn Joosten who rocks), has arthritis. So what does the pharmacy do? Give her CHILD-PROOF BOTTLES. I can appreciate and respect child-proofing; I even stick those plastic outlet covers on at work, lest the little scampering, display-destroying, whining snot-faced angels from heaven decide to stick their Power-Puff Girls hair clips into the socket. But if a 75-year old woman is getting a prescription for arthritis, and not Alzheimers, let's assume she won't leave the bottles lying around unattended and actually let her get to the medicine she needs. At which point she'll then be able to open her front door. I mean really.
Now, something I didn't consider dangerous, but apparently the good people at Del Monte did: Pineapple. Yes, that yummy tart and tangy sweet fruit of the island getaway daydream. Not only does Mother Nature make it a bitch to get to, trying in vain to dissuade you with the outer packaging, but now I need a crowbar to enjoy my Del Monte Gold Wedges, fresh from Trader Joes at only $2.79, which would be a steal, if I could get into it. They make you work for it, I'll tell you that. But once you are able to enjoy the fruits of your labor (I know, I know, sorry), you better be hungry. Because worse than getting the lid off is getting it back on. Do not eat this on your 10 minute break at work people; it will take you that long to put any unused portion back in the fridge. Plus you'll need a change of clothes, b/c that juice will be all over you, and not in a good way. Unless.... well, never mind.
So, if you get old and arthritic, no pineapple for you.
And if you are at work, screw healthy, eat M&Ms.

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Good Morning My Ass

I sleep with my hand on the snooze button. Not the entire night, just from the ungodly hour I set the alarm for until the time I realize I have less than 30 minutes to get to work. I'm a chick, 30 minutes means I'm going to stumble into work looking like I just had an all-nighter with Paris Hilton. Wait, that sounds pervy. And Paris just isn't my type, too bony.

Anyway, there I am, 6:30 am, all warm and snuggly in bed, hitting snooze every 4 minutes (yes, every 4 minutes, not the standard 9, b/c this particular Timex jewel is just a bitch). It's during one of these fitful snooze sessions that it dawns on me: When I was in school, I had to get up at 5:45 most mornings, in order to make it by 7:10 for the first bell. And what did all that early rising get me? Yeah, that thought made me want to smother myself with a pillow.

And yet, on those happy non-working days, when I get to dream about the various Men of Alias as long as I'd like, I find I am awake and blinking by 9:30, at the latest. Not only am I awake, I feel guilty, like I've already wasted half the day. wtf? I remember when sleeping in meant never having to say "good morning". When did I get old???

On a slightly more disturbing note: Have you seen the new Skittles commercial, with the Sheep-Boys? I'm just going to let that thought settle in for a moment..... Sheep-Boys. This is how the Mars Co. wants to lure me into their fruity web? I don't think so.