It's 9:11 on a Tuesday morning and I cannot wait to get out from work.

I came in at 7:45 and I still have no idea how the hell I would write the paper I have due for my boss.

My lips have dried since I got Rubella--fancy term for the German Measles--and I am now developing a divet in the middle of my lower lip ala Angelina Jolie/Jolene Blalock.

Cracked lips are the best. It's hurt enough that it bothers the hell out of you, but not so much that you can't think of anything but. So you just sort of keep biting it over and over just to feel the nippy ache. It's the ache that you just have to keep on aching.

My ear is on alert for my former boss--and may she stay my former boss--arrival. She has this way of walking in that sound like her heels are sticking on the floor and her slides are having a hard time keeping up with her feet.

Of course, if I weighed as much as she did, my shoes would probably want to run out from under me too.

It's a rotten way to think of people, but I got this thing from my grandmother about fat people. And when I say fat people, I mean those who are big for no excuses. If you take meds or bone structure is just so big, then I say fine. But if you are fat because you don't care...

I've had a lot of nasty experiences with people like those. I don't like to judge based on body types, since that's basically judging someone based on how they look, but if you base it on my past encounters with them you'd be more understanding towards my aversion.

I used to have a friend who was somewhat plump and didn't care about it. She wasn't my friend then and she was a bitch to everyone. Then she got a mirror, found a healthier way to eat, and now she's loved by everyone.

I guess she really did just feel bad about herself before, and when she pulled herself out of her funk, she got a better disposition. But don't blame the people who didn't want to be friends with her nor her self-pity when she was fat because she was really a mean person before all that change.

Anyway, my former boss--and may she stay my former boss--always likes to check in on what it is that I am doing. She likes to see if she can get me on something.

Since I am here updating blogs, then I guess she can get me in something. Which is why I make sure that she's not here when I do this.

I am still not happy with the fact that I am at work and I have no fucking idea on what it is that I am doing. Nor do I have any idea on what it is that I should be doing, because I am a lowly researcher and we are all stuck in between contracts since we are in a floating part of the project.

Oh wait, the former boss--and may she please stay my former boss--and her sticky heels are finally here.