...Fuck You.

No. Not YOU (pointing at you. I'm even winking. AT YOU.)
I'm talking about them.
Not you, baby.

Today at work was like watching a strange episode of "God that sounded really funny in the table read but didn't translate to live TV". Starring Yours Truly. Now, I think I'm a pretty funny, laid back, goofy girl. Apparently, I'm the only one that thinks that. WITNESS:

Boy Vice Principal (who I cannot get a grip on no matter how hard I try. He's just hard to read. Like this: alkdfm apvoiea;k roeiau. He's very aloof. But I don't think it's on purpose. But I don't know. Maybe he just chooses not to involve himself in the ridiculous amounts of estrogen bitching down the hallway. In which case, BRAVA! BRAVA!): H!

TCWH: YUP?

BVP: I was driving up to New York over Christmas Break and I saw something that reminded me of you.

TCWH (in famous deadpan): WAS IT...ROADKILL?

BVP:...(is she fucking for real? Roadkill? Why is THAT FUNNY?) (Let me tell you: Long story short - My job is a pain in the ass. They have literally chewed me up and spit me out on the side of the road, thus making me...insert lightbulb and complimentary MENSA membership here.)

TCWH (chuckling to myself. "Roadkill! I crack me up!"): Get it? Roadkill?

BVP:...

TCWH:Nevermind. No really, what did you see?

I mean, if I had been any closer to the guy I probably would've elbowed him like "Heeeeeeyyyyy! This is just a joke between you and me. SO! FUNNY! How can you NOT think I am the best employee EVER? Instead? HUMILIATION (please channel opera man here).

And then, at our meeting (NOT FIVE MINUTES LATER! FIVE), we were learning what level our kiddies are reading on, and I thanked one of my co-workers by saying, "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it!" Girl Vice Principal damn near fell out of her chair. She said, "You brought her out!" And I thought, "Am I that standoffish?" thus strengthening my belief that Bloody Marys should be part of the mandatory teacher breakfast. No, NOT REALLY.

Which lead me to think: Have I really compartmentalized that much?

School Alex?
Wife Alex?
Serious Alex?
Club Alex?

I guess so. But still, if my school weren't so damn clique-y and eager to jump on the "Oh mY GOD LOOK WHAT SHE DID at the last party, let's take pictures and tease her about it a WHOLE YEAR LATER like we have nothing better to do," bandwagon, I might feel more like being the lovely little social butterfly that I am. Sorry. Hormones talking, thus emphasizing my point that the school needs to HIRE MORE MALES. HELLO? DO YOU HEAR ME, PRINCIPAL?

Highly disturbing to me RIGHT NOW.

For as long as I can remember, dh has been coveting this:

Remember dh? The man who double fists Febreze? This is his wet dream of odor eating.

Momma, being the indulgent MIL that she is, bought him one for Christmas, thank Allah. It's so compact. And looks like a compact disc player, conveniently. It even comes with its own little discs! DISKS? THESE:

Ooh! LA LA! VARIETY. We all know how I love that, the variety. I mean, we're talking about the girl who owns about a shitload of perfume bottles. And yes, that is a scientific equation. I have 2 degrees, remember? (Warning: Tongue in CHEEK. NOW.)

But today? I came home? And put on the pink one - and now, as I type, I am smacked upside the olfactory sense with the rememberance that the first scent and the second scent smell exactly like these:

They're ummm, ummmm (mouthing word. I'm so helplessly proper I can't even type it. Much less by them in a store. With dh.).

It's bothersome on a level I can't even consciously describe. I mean, seriously. Obviously they had to have some scent testers before these puppies hit the market. Not that deodorant...ummm...feminine products are a household scent, but, but...I can't shake that "Don't I know you from somewhere?" feeling.

It's very discombobulating.

FEBREZE - THUMBS UP.

SCENT STORIES FLORAL DISC: THUMBS DOWN. I don't want to know what scent story you're telling.