Had a Luther, baby...

...surprised it didn't kill me.

Yes, this weekend I cashed in on my bet and made G take me out to get the fixin's for a genuine Luther.

Well, "genuine" probably isn't the correct term for it, as I had to improvise somewhat. The nearest Krispy Kreme store is about 30 miles away, so we bought two glazed donuts at Yum Yum instead. Then we went to Carl's Jr. and I got a cheeseburger kid's meal. The Luther calls for bacon, but all of the bacon cheeseburgers (seriously, they had like four different kinds) had weird sauces and, you know, vegetables on them, so I decided to go without. (Yes, I could have asked for just a plain ol' bacon cheeseburger, but the cashier didn't seem too, shall we say, with it and I didn't trust him to convey my request properly.)

When we got back to G's, I took the donuts out of the bag and immediately realized that there was no friggin' way I would be able to use both of them as buns unless a) I used a fork and knife, which I refuse to do with a hamburger, or b) I somehow managed to unhinge my jaw like a snake. I cut one of the donuts in half and set the other one aside for Sunday's breakfast.

"I cannot freakin' believe you're going to go through with this," G said as he watched me dismantle the cheeseburger and slap it between the donut halves.

"I have to," I said solemnly. "I cannot rest until my curiosity is satiated."

(chomp)

Hmmmm.

Well, the contrast between sweet and salt was definitely interesting, but the mustard and ketchup oozed out of the holes in the donut, which was messy and looked disgusting as hell. It was neither as good as I'd hoped nor as nasty as I'd feared, so I don't think I'll be consuming another one.

---

Work today blew syphilitic goats.

As you may recall, I was voluntold to work half days in the mail room for the three weeks that one (out of two) of the regular employees will be out on vacation. It hasn't been so bad, really. Sure, being on my feet all afternoon isn't particularly pleasant (especially since the mail people are subject to the same dress code as everyone else, which is just moronic in my opinion because they're running all over hell's half-acre all day; Jeebus, let them wear jeans and sneakers!), but it makes the day go by quickly.

Anyway, the other mail room person, J, had today off, and that meant I was running the show all day.

By myself.

Okay, let's think this over for a second. If J can't handle it by herself when she actually knows what she's doing, how am I, who has minimal training in that department, supposed to do it all by myself? Granted, it ain't rocket science, but there's more to it than you might think, and there's just a metric fuckton of things to do.

So I was really dreading today, and when my alarm went off, I was even more loath than usual to get out of bed. I performed my morning ablutions, fed the cat, had a big bowl of cereal, messed around online for about 15 minutes, and then I logged off and headed back upstairs to get dressed. I selected a top and skirt and then I thought, "You know what? Screw it. If I have to do this crap all goddamn day, I'm going to wear something comfortable and if they don't like it, they can find another freakin’ desk monkey to take over." I put on a black shirt, white jeans that could pass for plain white slacks if someone wasn't particularly observant, and sneakers, and then I headed off to work.

Oh dear god.

It wasn't quite as dire as I'd feared, especially because people kept giving me complimentary Girl Scout cookies during my rounds, but I had a close encounter with the serrated edge of a tape dispenser (owie), plus I was very busy and, by the time I got off, very sore and tired.

Good thing I thought ahead and booked a massage right after work, eh?

And oh, my pretties, it was unbelievable. This chick did this move that no other masseuse has ever done on me before, and I swear to you I was about fifteen seconds away from a happy ending. I don't know if she hit a particular pressure point, or if I was just really hypersensitive for some reason, but whatever it was, for the first time today, I wasn't complaining.