Bent Words

Bent Words

September 02, 2020

I don’t get what you don’t get.

We need to send magazines to four people in Canada (because, yeah, Canadians are people, too). So WHY are you asking me what their email and phone numbers are? Are they receiving electronic versions of the magazine? Do people in Canada now not receive mail from the magical box down by the road?

“Lauuuuuuuura. I need emails and phone numbers for this to work.”

My fucking name is not Lauuuuuuuuuura.

Do I call you Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar on occasion to belittle you? Well, I do now, but no not normally.

I mail the mail. I do not email the mail or call in the mail. I MAIL THE MAIL. With stamps and indicias, labels and lists. If you do not have something I can physically toss at you, I do not send it.

I said, ”I’m not sure how these looked for the August issue – did you get physical labels that were applied to a book or an envelope? I thought you were mailing via QPS four records to Canadian home addresses so I didn’t realize you would need emails and phone numbers.”

To which she replied, “I don’t know what I had for breakfast. I will look it up tomorrow.”


You are almost twice as old as me – which is fine – but don’t talk to me like I’m a high school drop out or one of your kids’s friends who always gets into trouble. Just tell me what you need to mail the MAGAZINES and I will make it hot.

Keep plugging away, he says. How about I plug my fingers into the nearest seven sockets so I have an electrocution excuse to be NOT WORKING right meow? I’m officially on high alert for holding up production. Not sure if I get fired for that or not but I’m preferring not.

I left the little dudes (that represent me in person) at the plant in charge of my weight copies. They failed. Per the usual. NO ONE IS ME! But now I have to fix it tomorrow because I was dumb enough not to be around today.

Took a vacation day so I could bring 2 kids to Great Start Conferences and drop off the ass load of school supplies I have purchased in the off chance we’ll have more than two months of school this year. Any bets?! One teacher told me all about how she is keeping my kid COVID safe this school year. I get what you’re saying, lady, but I still call BS. ON THE WHOLE THING. And the kid you’re referring to is still a thumb sucker so I’m guessing she will most likely contract all sorts of fun germs on her way to school, at school and on her way back from school.

I wanted to shake her hand but she wouldn’t let me. That hurt. I have a good handshake.

I also had to go to the dentist today. I still hate the dentist. I don’t hate HER but I do hate everything she represents. Tiny, sharp poker things to see if I bleed (OF COURSE I BLEED – let me punch your gums with a tiny fork!), little busts of air onto my naked gums, a thing that sounds like a drill, fluoride. I hate fluoride. It tastes terrible, it is sticky and who the fuck hasn’t invented a thing where you turn 20 and get all new, fake teeth automatically? They wouldn’t stain or get crooked. They wouldn’t hurt and we’d all be a bit happier in the end. New fake teeth for everyone!

My four root canals have a story with a happy ending every time I’m there. Everyone cringes over the story and I get to bask in the glory of non-staining teeth that don’t hurt or matter in any way.

But the best part of the dentist was getting outside. I carefully adjusted all aspects of my seating and drove my little Fusion with the windows down, the moon/sun roof open and blasted some 80’s tunes while cruising down Pilgrim without a care in the world. Sunny sunshine, hair all tangled and free, a little vape action and a cherry Pepsi tinted with Captain. Shhhhhh

I’m not great but I’m not as bad as I was.

[thank you]

Written at 7:49 p.m.