Hell Week Is Over

God I tell you what people, Britney Spears makes me want to run screaming. Why did she shave her head? Has she officially lost her marbles? Is it just another ploy to stay in the spotlight regardless of the level of puking she inspires in watchers of said spotlight? Ew yuk. That is my official statement on the whole chrome-domed songbird….

I am sooooooooo glad that Valentine’s Day is over. It was everything I had feared it would be, what with the NB not knowing shit about flowers. She kept questioning everything I did, like was I sure I needed to order all those flowers? Was I absolutely certain I needed extra designers? Um, was I really for real about not taking “timed orders”? What would we do with all those roses if no one bought them? (Yeah right, that is as likely as putting down a chunk of chocolate in a room full of PMSing women and hoping it won’t grow mold, just sitting there.) She and her daughters ran around taking orders and watching us put them together… she says she would like me to start “lessons” next week. That is… me teaching them how to “do” the things I do. I’m not looking forward to it.

Um. The honeymoon is over I guess. Tension and negativity filled the air in the store to the point that if you were able to squeeze the air, instead of flower-scented happiness, you would get like, a face full of hot pig urine.

Spiked with a sweet ribbon of liquid fecal matter.

Maybe this is just how these ladies deal with stress. By becoming surly, mopey bitches. OH and the reason I made this a private blog becomes obvious here, in paragraph number three… I’m going to talk shit about my employers. Seriously, they are really nice people when they aren’t moaning about how this is so hard…because it’s really not. Hard at all. Having enough cash on hand to buy a business that you know nothing about and then luckily getting an employee along with it who is capable of running that business until you get around to learning a bit about it…well, that’s not hard. That is sheer bloody goatfucking good luck if you ask me.

Ok, I admit I am pissed because after ALL OF THAT….

I didn’t get a bonus.

I was so shocked. LOL and that shows how dumb I am. Me, with my constant matra of “Expect nothing, for then you shall not be disappointed.” I guess it is just another thing NB doesn’t know about the flower business…that the HEAD designer who worked OVERTIME always gets a BONUS for the HOLIDAYS. This is the first holiday I haven’t received a bonus, and it really yanks my wiener. If I had a wiener. And that’s assuming I didn’t like it to be yanked, which, judging from the wiener-owners I have talked to, isn’t likely.

I know what a dumbass, boring, lame-o post, when I promised, well, hinted at, sex and drugs and rock-n-roll, at least one or two horny skeletons falling out of my closet.

The skeletons have a headache.

To top the sundae, my husband completely ignored Valentine’s Day. Not a word. Not a card. Not a footrub in sight. He sheepishly approached me as I staggered out to smoke after a hellish day of doing hundred dollar orders for lucky bitches whose husbands actually get their wives something for the romantic holiday of the year… and thanked me for MY gift to HIM- what a nice card, what a lovely, expensive GIFT… “I didn’t get you anything.”

I guess my abrupt nod was apology accepted and all was forgiven and forgotted, to him. To me, it meant that I was biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood, reminding myself that lack of holiday observance is probably not a good enough reason to divorce.

Tomorrow I have the day off and I am going to go shopping. Shoes, maybe. Shoes always make me feel good. Or maybe a month of super deluxe tanning at the new salon. A haircut? A diamond bracelet? Hell, why not all of them?

The skeletons are not the only ones having a headache this week.