I have a purpose for every move I make. Every step I take. I’ll be watching you (haha do you remember that song?). I won’t get up from my desk to take back a file until I have to go to the bathroom. That way there is no energy wasted, I get up walk upstairs to return the file and on my way back to my desk I go pee. I don’t go to the copier until I have something that needs to go downstairs. I don’t walk around my house aimlessly, I pick something up that belongs in the bedroom, walk to the bedroom, put it away and grab something that needs to go back to the kitchen. Getting this? So I had this awesome plan worked out in my head, I know it’s a sickness, I would walk down the street to the ATM to get money out. This way when I came back to my building, I could pay the $1.75 for my mango tea, instead of using my debit card. It also benefited me because I could break the $20 that I would get from the ATM leaving me change in case I needed it tomorrow night at the DAS meeting AND I would also have change for the hair stylist when I get my haircut on Saturday. See the process and neurotic-ness (yes I made my own word)? Well the stupid ATM messed up my entire plan! It was out of money. But I was able to find something of interest for my photo:

Ok, it’s an odd sign…but wait until I tell you what store it’s in front of. The S³ store! If you read my earlier post Safe Sex & Zippers you’ll know what I’m talking about. Gives it new meaning huh?

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Post tags: neurosis, neurotic, photo challenge, process, tea, walk

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I was calmly sitting at my desk today when I kept smelling this B.O. scent.  The phone rang and I answered it, continuing to get whiffs of this awful pukey, musty smell.  I thought it was coming from my phone (which is totally disgusting) so I went to the closet and got the cleaning wipes.  I wiped it down and got it smelling all fresh and lovely.  A few moments later I was haunted by the stench again.

My eyes roamed the desk, what could be producing this putrid smell?  And then my eyes zeroed in on a likely target.  Could it be the tea bag that was given to me out of goodwill?  I picked it up, held it to my nose and inhaled.  Bile rose in my throat and I inwardly gagged.  Yes! It was the teabag.  I put it in my drawer thinking I’d steep it later, because really it can’t taste as bad as it smells, right?  But the stench, oh the stench, is seeping out.  Or is it just stuck in my nose?  -A- thinks that I should flush it down the toilet because “that is where ass belongs”.  But I’m interested to find out if it tastes bad and makes my breath smell like farts or it may actually be good (calming or a laxative?).  The person who gave it to me put another ass tea bag in his steaming mug of water and he hasn’t gagged.  When he opens his mouth will rotten eggs fill the air?  I guess I will find out if he breathes on me later.

© rialeilani for & that's the way life goes, 2008. | Permalink | 9 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: stench, tea

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