Warning: heavy use of the f-word ahead.

You guys, I am seriously fucking cranky today. I even tried to talk myself out of being cranky. "But wait!" I said sternly, "you have a cute new haircut, and your new car is from the fucking future so the radio turns itself up and down as you accelerate and decelerate, and you started working on the upstairs bathroom. Chill out." All of that is true, but I'm still fucking grouchy. My hair does look cute, and my new car is baller, but I'm still one grumpy lady. In fact, I responded to my internal pep talk with, "Seriously, all that can fucking suck it, because I'm not interested."

So I've been cussing a whole lot today, mostly in my head. I have mentally cussed out my clients who apparently don't know how to read, who send me nonsense and are confused when I ask questions about it. I mentally cussed out my snow-plow guy, who does a terrible job despite being paid to not do a terrible job, because I had to shovel wet, melty slush from the bottom of the driveway when I got home so I don't get stuck in it when it freezes overnight. I cussed out my father-in-law, who isn't my favorite human being anyway, for choosing the cheapest plow service (he pays for half of ours as a Christmas present) instead of, you know, getting some references and finding out if they suck really bad (so far, the services he's picked have sucked really bad for two years in a row.) I cussed out the people we bought our house from for flat-out lying about water damage in the upstairs bathroom, making what should have been simple repainting into a much bigger project with drywall-patching and seaming and stuff (I cuss them out a lot). I cussed out my coworkers for pooping in the bathroom nearest my desk and then emptying half a fucking can of the worst-fucking-scented air freshener ever.

I heartily cussed myself out, too, because I know part of my fucking problem is that I'm PMSing. I'm a grown-ass woman who should be able to acknowledge that my hormones are contributing to me feeling irritable, and then deal with it in a healthy way (interior pep talk: like shoveling the driveway!) but instead I'm just extra grumpy that I'm even grumpy in the first place.

Here's my game plan to get ungrumpy. First, I'm going to change into some pajamas and warm socks. Then, I'm going to eat some chili and the leftover guacamole from yesterday, probably while finally catching up on this season of The Office. Then, when Andy gets home, I'm going to suggest two movie choices for tonight: either Stepbrothers or Die Hard 2 (shut up, the point is to cheer me up, not watch some stupid Oscar nominee). Then, if all else fails, I'll take a bubble bath.

Anyone else grumpy? What's your game plan look like? For the love of god, I'm looking for suggestions over here.

Conversation from 10:30 this morning

Me: I was considering putting a shot of irish cream in my coffee.
Andy: Do it! It's Superbowl Sunday. That's, like, a holiday or something, right?
Me: I actually only said that out loud because I knew you'd encourage me to do it.

Because Riley asked.

I commented on 1000 Awesome Things that I decorated my cubicle so I didn't have to stare at tan walls, and someone named Riley asked for a picture of it. It's like this except I took down the string of lights because they were really cheap and burned out in like a week. The weird-looking dangly thing in the middle is a string of seashells.

Hello, half day! I love you!

Because I worked such long days earlier this week, I got out early today! I'm going to spend my afternoon napping, catching up on 30 Rock, and baking brownies and making guacamole. I'm pretty freaking excited about this plan.

Because it's not fair for me to leave you hanging, here's some other shit going on around the internets:

• Juniper Moon Farm is giving away a miniature donkey. It's part of a fundraiser for Pete Johnson, an organic CSA farmer in Vermont whose barn was destroyed by fire three weeks ago. (Y'all, the barn stored all his farm's produce and equipment and was under-insured. Check out what you can do to help, if you feel like it.)
• Do you read The It List? It's a weekly roundup of interesting stuff from various blogs, put together by Jill over at Good Life for Less.
• The Pioneer Woman has made your life easier by creating a "Superbowl" holiday category. I'll be making my ridiculously good guacamole, and Andy's making his Buffalo chicken dip, and I'm baking the aforementioned brownies. 
• I have been spending hours of my life staring at Pinterest. I love seeing what other people pin. I requested an invite a week ago, and it came today! I can't wait to get out there and start pinning things. One thing, though: I WISH PEOPLE WOULD STOP FUCKING PINNING ITEMS WITH MISSPELLINGS. It seriously isn't that hard to run spell-check. This goes double for mis-attributed quotes/sayings, especially well-known ones. I saw one that was the Mary Oliver line "Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life?" attributed to some shmoe. So join Pinterest, and pin pretty things, but do it right, okay?
• Thinking about trying this spicy hot chocolate recipe from Alton Brown to keep in my desk at work. 

What are you up to this lovely afternoon? Are you on Pinterest? Do share!

Fast food is weird.

Classic childhood memories via

Have any of you eaten fast food lately? If you're an American, statistically, the chances are pretty good that you have. I ask because my office is within walking distance of a Subway, a Burger King, a Pizza Hut, and a nameless pizza joint where surly workers serve tasteless greasy slices. And since Andy's been dropping me off this week, if I forgot my lunch, I got fast food.

I had sort of forgotten that fast food joints are staffed by children and idiots. I ordered a Tendergrill sandwich - which is a stupid name - at Burger King, and asked to have it without mayo but with pickles and onions. It came without lettuce and tomatoes, which I thought were standard. I also asked for onion rings instead of french fries. The girl looked at the order, then handed me french fries. I feel like being able to read is probably required to work at these places, but I suppose I could be wrong.

On a trip somewhere last week I stopped at a McDonalds and ordered a Happy Meal (it's not way too much fucking food, like most of their items). I was seriously thrown when the girl asked me if I wanted a toy for a boy or a girl. I think it creeped her out when I said it didn't matter.

Needless to say, I've felt like shit eating so much fast food. Good thing I got my new(er) car tonight! Yeah!

Lessons from working at home

My day was a little like this but with less hardwood floors and fire hazards.

I mentioned yesterday that we were supposed to get a lot of snow overnight. Well, the snowpocalypse missed us - we got about six inches. But we don't have my new car yet, so today would have been another ten-hour day for me. Luckily, I have a job that's flexible enough for me to work from home once in a while. I brought home a bunch of stuff yesterday and spent my day working from the kitchen table. Here's what I learned:

• My house is cold. We keep it at 65°, which is fine when we're snuggled under some blankets on the couch, but way too cold when you're in the kitchen trying to edit.
• My dog's life is pretty decent. He spent the whole day on the couch, sleeping. Only a slight departure from his usual weekend routine of spending all day sleeping on the floor.
• It's a lot harder to focus on reading legal stuff when you're watching Bones or The Office. 
• Don't try to run the dishwasher when you're sitting right next to it trying to read.
• If I don't go outside for at least a few minutes, I get a headache. 
• I would be terrible at being self-employed. I barely talked myself out of baking cookies midafternoon. Deciding factor: I was pretty sure the butter would be too hard, even at room temperature.

Do any of you work from home? How do you deal with impulse control? Anyone get more snow than I?

Long freaking day.

German secret police spy kit, with really interesting information about the Stasi, via. Sorry for such a depressing connection to a secret disguise hidden in a briefcase.

You guys, I worked ten and a half hours today. We don't get my new car until tomorrow, but we returned the rental, so Andy has been driving me in and picking me up. But he works closer to nine hours a day anyway, and with travel time, I worked over ten. It has never been more clear to me that my job can be boring.

Something I noticed today: I was commenting on a blog, and instead of just "Comment as" and then a drop-down menu for you to select from, it said, "Choose your identity."

I'm so in love with that idea. I know we can all be anonymous and whoever we want to be and all on the internet and everything, but that's not what I am thinking about. Sure, at first I was like, do they think I'm in disguise? Like a spy? Because that's awesome. But then what I started thinking about is this idea that we each, with every single thing we do, are choosing our identity.

So instead of complaining about working a long day at a boring job, I can choose to be psyched to get out early on Friday. Instead of grumbling about how we're supposed to get ten-plus inches of snow in the next 24 hours, I can be excited about having a job that's flexible enough to allow me to work from home if there's a weather emergency. I can choose to be identified by the way I handle not-optimal situations.

Or, another fun part to think about, is to think about the identities we already have. I have always been what you might call an extreme extrovert. I'm the one who talks too much. But I can choose my identity! I can spend more time listening and less time hogging the conversation. I get to invent myself! Isn't that neat?

Is this preachy? It's not intended to be. I am seriously intrigued by the idea of choosing to be who I want to be. I like meeting new people because it's a chance to be someone new. I am just thinking about how I can apply that idea all the time!

What identity would you choose? Do you ever feel like you are a spy?