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Happy fifth of July, everyone. I’m sunburnt, tired, and my stomach is staging a revolt due to the 10-16 hamburgers I ate over the long weekend. I don’t want to be at work, and I definitely don’t want to interact with my coworkers. Unfortunately, like all of you, I’ve had to bite my tongue at give out pre-canned responses to all the conversation starters that have been thrown at me today. If I could be truthful, however, this is what I would say.
“Looks like you got some sun this weekend!”
What I wanted to say: Oh did I, Janet? Did I get some sun? Is that why my face is as red as that hideous cardigan you’re wearing? Yes, I spent time in the sun. In case you hadn’t noticed, it was America’s birthday this weekend, and I exercised my right to bare my arms, chest, and on several occasions that ended up Snapchat, my ass. Did I forget to put sunscreen on, you ask? Of course I did. I enjoyed several adult beverages over the course of the last four days, and I don’t know if you know this, but they tend to cause forgetfulness. Does it hurt? Yes, Janet, it fucking hurts. It’s a sunburn. I know you spend all your time indoor with your many cats, but I’m sure you’ve experienced a sunburn before. Now please leave me along so I can continue to lather myself with aloe in privacy.
What I did say: “Haha, yeah. The sun was pretty strong out there on Saturday! Hopefully this turns into a tan.”
“What did you to celebrate the Fourth?”
What I wanted to say: I’ll be honest with you, John, the Fourth of July being on a Tuesday really fucked me this year. Clearly, I’m still too immature to be trusted with a long weekend, because by the time Tuesday rolled around I was far too hungover to go hard. Despite the fact that I was on a rooftop overlooking Wrigley field with an open bar, I barely took advantage of it. However, if you’re trying to live vicariously through my life, you can rest assured that I drank roughly one Coors Light every twenty minutes from 3 p.m. Friday until late Sunday night. I also drank a bunch of Faderade™ while at the beach, which resulted in me taking a nice little nap in the sun without any sunscreen. How was your weekend with your kids?
What I said: I actually went to the ball game and hung out with friends. It was a pretty low key weekend, but I enjoyed relaxing in the sun!
“With everything that’s going on, how can anyone even celebrate America this year?”
What I wanted to say: Excuse me Kristen? Look at my face. Look at my fucking face. Do I look like I want to get political with you right now, at 9:38 a.m. on the day after a long weekend? Because I don’t. But I will. Yes, this country is in a pretty shitty spot right now, government wise. Sadly, I probably agree with you on most of your political opinions. But none of that has anything to do with my love of this country or my desire to celebrate living in the greatest nation on earth. Being a patriot is about love for your country, not your president or government. Sure, we’ve got some problems, but the reason we know about them is because we’re addressing the shit out of them. Protests, petitions, lobbying congressmen- all of this happens because we’re a country of doers and we don’t sit back and take shit. So, if you want to come at me with a Trump meme, Kristen, pencil me in for next week. But for this week, can you just let me ride my high of loving America and get your unpatriotic attitude out of my sunburned face?
What I did say: Well, although I don’t always agree with the government, I do think there’s still a lot to celebrate about living here. Anyways, did you hear our summer party is going to be on the beach this year? Crazy, right?”
“Did you see that email I sent you over the weekend?”
What I wanted to say: Fuck no, Jared, I didn’t check that email. In the past four days, I’ve thought about work exactly zero times. In fact, probably at the same time you were being a try hard and sending out unimportant emails on a Saturday, I was playing a drinking game wherein anytime anyone mentioned work, they had to take a shot. The closest I came to seeing your dumb email is when I drunkenly clicked on my Outlook app instead of Spotify because they’re next to each other on my phone. Don’t worry, I immediately deleted and took a shot as per the rules of the game. I did, however, see your email whilst on the shitter this morning, and it’s regarding your thoughts on a project that I have nothing to do with. So thank you for that. I’ll get back to you in 3-5 business days, or never.
What I did say: “Oh yeah, I looked that over! Let me do some digging and get back to you on that!”
“Can you play anything other than Lee Greenwood’s ‘God Bless America’ on repeat?”
What I wanted to say: Absolutely not.
What I did say: Absolutely not..
Image via Shutterstock
I came back to work today with my face stitched up and a new broken bone and if I hear the phrase “looks like you had a good 4th” I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
Please elaborate
Taking someone’s word that they were fine to operate a boat when they clearly shouldn’t even be operating a bicycle
And it is this group of individuals that keeps me at work on a holiday weekend, although with my own set of stories to tell on Tuesday as well
The Monday-ist Wednesday in the history of the world.
Having two Mondays this week was the fucking worst.
I planned to go to bed at 8 last night, after a long day of day drinking. Instead, I drunkenly researched the two Butler teams, that lost in the National Championship game two years in a row, until midnight.
Well, what did you learn?
The people need answers!
This day is dragging funking along, trying to think of a ascuses so I can leave here an hour early.
I cancelled a 4pm meeting because I was “still trying to finalize some budget issues due today.” My budget actually looks good but I was not prepared for that meeting in the slightest. Gonna stare into space and browse the web for the next hour instead.
*excuse…. I hate today.
Pushing myself to go out again last night after drinking all weekend was a worthwhile mistake. Heading to napville after work.