March Break

I Remember a time when March break used to be fun.
Now that I work with the general public for a living.......not so much.

Number of people coming through the doors=6,120
Number of hours worked this week=79
Number of piles puke cleaned in the last week= 4
Number of Tylenol extra strength swallowed per day= 3
Number of Daycares showing up(without reservations) per day= 2
Number of district managers "dropping by" =1
oh and can't forget!
Pile of human pooh cleaned off toilet seat=1

What self respecting man goes into the washroom pulls the toilet seat down and squats over top of the lid to lay a massive log? He couldn't of sat on top of the lid to do it, he would of smeared it all over himself. he literally had to do the "hover squat".

Why would he do this? He could not of been angry that there was no toilet paper because there was two full rolls of it. Maybe he didn't like the movie, fine chuck popcorn at the screen like every other over zealous movie goer. But no, in my 60th hour worked I was standing in the mens washroom with a massive black garbage bag on my hand picking up human feces telling myself that it is no different than Wyatt's pooh in the back yard.

Yeah, March Break has been great.

Sorry internet, for not posting as often I should. I've been occupied.

Daily Photo: Wyatt

He would not sit still for more than 2.2 seconds.

Daily Photo: won't hold much longer

Wyatt is tied up to our door handle.
It won't hold on for much longer.

Daily Photo: day triping.

I Freaking Love My Teddy Grams

Dylan was almost an hour late picking me up from work today.
He made some lame excuses about some job running late at work .
Then I walk in the door and see this.
Happy valentines day everyone.

Men like crazy not crazy men.

I was on the bus the other day, minding my own business, listening to my i pod not making eye contact with anyone and this kid who looks like he is on his way to a rave sits down beside me.
He had a bright blue puffy coat, hot pink pants and a jester hat on.

I made the mistake of looking up. fawk. He sticks his hand out with a dopey smile to shake my hand. I politely take out my ear buds and shake the guy's finger painted hand.

Rave kid: Hi pretty girl. my name is Eric.

Me: Carly.

Eric: I like Girls. wanna see my tattoos?

Me: No thanks.

Eric: lifts shirt, This one is my favorite! points to a tattoo on his chest of a woman with a floppy vagina.

Me: lovely.

Eric: check this one out. lifts pant leg to show another tattoo of a exposed woman dressed as harlequin.

Me: harlequin eh? nice.

Eric: Harle-whats? his mouth is wide open with toothpaste residue in the corners of his mouth.

Me: never mind.

Eric: want to see a picture of me?

Me: no. this is when I start to clue in that something is not right about this guy.

Eric: This is my bus pass picture! he dangles his buss pass in front of my face and all I can see is the city's yellow "special person" sticker.

Me: very nice. Great its before 10 o'clock and I'm being hit on by the retarded rave kid.

Eric: can I have your phone number?

Me: No. sorry, flattered but married. and cue fake phone call....NOW.

Eric: ok, I will give you my number.

Fawk!

The rest of the bus ride consisted of me trying to ignore him while talking on a fake phone call.I love public transportation. All the other women on the bus were looking at me with the 'better you than me face'.

"bus driver can we stop at the MTO I need a drivers License!"

My Next Tattoo

I want this tattoo so badly. Dylan says he would disown me if I got it done, and I say "YOU DON'T OWN ME BITCH!" : D