Everyday Stranger

Lalala Feeling Groovy...

I am in a weird mood today.

I think it's a defense mechanism.

I was in a bad mood last night (see the post "Set Yourself Free"), and am in a strange mood today. I am hoping to further evolve into either a good mood or no mood at all-at least that way I could calm the fuck down.

It started with the morning ritual known as "The Waking of the Partner Unit". My preferred method for waking him up is to start running from the bedroom door, jump just before the bed, and land squarely on him, thus arousing him from sleep.

Yes, I know. I am going to burn in hell for this behavior. I have already reserved my cocktail dress for my reception party they will be throwing me as my welcome.

This morning I did this ritual with the added bliss of singing "Good Morning, Good Morning" from "Singing in the Rain" at the top of my lungs, getting Ed the Evil One to howl along with me. And bless his heart, Partner Unit didn't threaten to kill me, although I did get a spanking for that.

But that's ok, I like them. :)

I took a shower, where I realized that I am a mixture of fruit flavors with my beauty products. Lavender soap. Honey-ginger body lotion. Orange-ginger shampoo. Sugared shortbread hand creme. If Yogi bear met me in the park, he would either fuck me ('cause I'm so cute) or eat me (since picnic basket fruity-licious). Walking into the other bathroom, I see Partner Unit struggling with my shelf of products. I have two shelves, he has one. His shelf has five things on it, my shelves are bursting with exploding beauty products.

Him: "Why do you have so much beauty shit? Look at my shelf, look at yours!"
Me: "I have to look pretty. You want me to look pretty, right? I need these products to do so."

Now he is not stupid. He knows there is no winning comment to this. If he says I don't need them, I will attack and say "What, you don't think I need to stay pretty?" If he thrusts and says I do, then I will parry back with "You don't think I am ALREADY pretty?" He was trapped. I knew it. He knew it. He knew I knew he knew it.

That's right, guys. Sometimes we set you up so that you will drop the subject (as he wisely did). Aren't we women bitches sometimes?

Progressed on to dressing, in which I selected a black turtleneck (I mean a real turtleneck and not a foreskin. Stay with me here, people) and a little bitty grey jumper (not a sweater, for my English friends. Like a pinafore. I just love that word. Pinafore. Say it with me.) Then I put on black tights and black knee-high, high heel boots. I looked like a cross between go-go dancer meets the sacrificial-Star-Trek-technician.

I loved it.

In the car, I was singing along to Dido's new CD. Looking at the CDs strewn about the front seat, I realized-my car is like Lilith Fair hopped up on estrogen. Dido, Sarah McLachlan, Michelle Branch, a cool Norwegian chick named Lene Marlin. All groovy chick music. If a guy got in my car, his dick would fall off and he would emerge with a dyke-y crew cut and a pair of Doc Martins.

Once at work, I once again feel apathetic. I have much to do, but feel thoroughly unmotivated since I may or may not be employed here in 5 weeks time (I am not alone. We are all thoroughly incapable of getting any real work done). So I decide to be a pain, and I start singing a song that is guaranteed to be stuck on my co-worker's minds all day.

I am now going to hide on the first floor with my computer, since everyone around me is annoyed they are humming said tune.

Say it with me, refrain only. Everyone else will take care of the chorus. Let yourself sing this. Then try it out on your colleagues. It's worth it.

"A wee-mo-wack! A wee-mo-wack! In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight!"

-H.

PS-thanks Sue, for the vicious idea of sing-alongs!

Posted by Everydaystranger at October 8, 2003 09:17 AM | TrackBack