Satan's Cel phone Molested my Boob!

No joke. The day started out just like any other day. I woke up late, rushed out the door, and went to work only to sit at my desk and pretend to know what I was doing. Sometimes I actually think it works...or maybe I really do know what I'm doing, I’ve just fooled myself into thinking I don't. The day was long and slow. Finally after 8 grueling hours the time came to walk out the door. I was officially free for the remainder of the day. "Woo hoo!" I thought to my self in overwhelming happiness as I gathered my belongings. Thank god I'm not a girly-girl and keep my excess baggage to a minimum. Why would I want to slow down the time it would take me to prepare for the end of my misery by carrying a big purse? Maybe I'm just lazy. Regardless, I hi-tailed it to the other side of the building where I park my precious pink MINI Cooper, this also happens to be the side of the building I use to work in and is home to the woman/thing we call Skelator (a-k-a Satan). I gleefully said my goodbyes as I passed through our trailer park of cubicles when all of a sudden, "BOINK!", modern electronics just collided with my Tonkas. I giggled and with a sarcastic gasp said "Helensia, My boob just touched your cell phone!" little did I know her response would be "Oh, it's not my cell phone, it's (she who shall not be named)'s cell phone." and then I made eye contact. OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH NOOOOOO! Blech! Ptewy! ACK!!!! I can feel my skin shriveling as I gracefully tried to cover my urge to vomit while walking out the door. I am cursed. So much for happy endings.

Once again I dedicate this post to anyone who has ever had to work with a psycho.