Here I stand. Poised on the cusp of a brand new year. Full of good intentions and resolutions. OK, already a lie, no resolutions and we all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions, so enough said.
I had sort of, in my last waking moments yesterday, decided on a post that would reflect on the past and coming years.
Then I read several lovely, thoughtful posts like this one from Citizen at A Little Off Kilter, and this one from Susan, at Ilka's Attic, and again from Kimber and all my good intentions, straight off to hell they did go.
So thoughtful schmoughtful. I might not do thoughtful, but I do do snark. Practice makes perfect after all.
Dear People in Vegas**,
This is a breakfast buffet. The operative word being buffet. By definition, it means you can return several times. There is really no reason to pile your plate 6 inches high with everything from oatmeal to tacos. Seriously. It's disgusting. Get your butt off the chair and go back for more however many times you need to. You can consider it exercise.
Dear Mother Nature,
You are indeed a bitch. Yes you are. Don't try to deny it.
Winter weary alreadily,
Dear Person who watered my boss's plant,
I'm sure you were full of good intentions (see above about those and hell and all that). But I had already watered the boss's plant. You're doing so again while the office was closed for vacation and you came in to clean means the plant now looks like a drowned puppy. It also means I look like I've killed the damn thing.
I don't need your help to go around killing plants. I do fine on that by myself. And now the boss's plant is swimming in massive amounts of water.
Dear People who run Vegas,
I find it highly disconcerting as a non gambler to walk up to a slot machine and realize that slot machines no longer have slots to receive my quarters. Nor do the winnings fall into a pan at the bottom.
Now I have to purchase a ticket that I put into the machine and if and when I win something I take the ticket to a window for redemption.
That is wrong! Wrong I tell you. When I go to Vegas, I play a quarter in the slot machines. Put in my quarter, pull down the handle wait for the machine to spit out my meagre winnings.
I can no longer carry out my "gamble a quarter every two years" tradition. This annoys me in some strange way.
Feeling extremely old fashioned by your fault-edly,
** Soon to come, pictures of the trip.... Well, as soon as I get my shit together at any rate.