My life hurts...

My job has me standing on my feet all day walking in circles. So damn boring but the money is good and every hour or so I get to have about fifteen minutes of fun so I guess that forty five minutes of tedium isn't so bad. At least I have a job. I'm working on not being such a self absorbed whiner and I have to tell you, it's no fun. I like talking about myself, thinking about myself and fantasizing about myself. I do like cooking for others though. That's how I nurture, and i'm damn good at it too. I just made the best yellow sheet cake with cream cheese frosting and I have nobody to feed it to.

That's my biggest problem, I like to cook but I also like to eat and that's why I can't shed those pesky ten pounds. See, talking about myself again...I have taken a week long break on the work outs. I usually work out Mon thru Fri but every couple of months my knees just go to hell and the idea of a squat or a lunge just scares me to death. I keep having daydreams about being in the middle of a set of lunges and my knee bone just popping out of it's socket and tearing through my skin, leaving me in a pile on the floor screaming for help in my basement where no one can hear me. Knee bone, you like that don't you. Well, i'm too lazy to look up the medical terminology right now.

I want to write a book, or maybe just a short story. I want to do something and finish it. I want to impress someone. I impress myself already but the things that I do aren't really things that I can show off. "Hey look at this new scarf I knitted" isn't the show stopper you'd think it is. I don't know why but it pisses me off when people don't gush over the food that I cook for them. (More on my Thanksgiving feast when I feel up to not being a lazy ass). Suffice it to say that I cooked a HUGE holiday feast and was left home alone to eat it, I even brined the damn turkey for 24 hours. I make the best peach pie in the world and whenever I give a piece to this Male person that I know he acts like it's from the frozen food section. Bitch, those are ripe Cling peaches from the heart of Georgia, I made the dough from scratch. You better recognize!

This male person, figure???? has a buddy that has been making him upside down cakes and strawberry cupcakes( which I recently found out are by way of Ms. Betty Crocker!) for years and you'd think that she had won the Pillsbury bake off the way this fool gushes. Me though, after one bite and not even a raised eyebrow in appreciation. He' s lucky I don't take it straight from the oven and smear it in his face.

What was I talking about in the first place? This post wasn't supposed to go there. Ok let's see, I was talking about work place boredom, achey knees and a need to impress. I titled this thing "My life Hurts" because whenever someone complains about aches and pains I respond by saying My life hurts. I don't know what it means, my sister is the original complaininator and I remember that after hearing one to many complaints I responded with that little gem. Now, I just say it to be a jackass. Plus, I just always pick horrible titles.

Ok, well enough about me. Not really, but bye.