Spritzer

My work cubicle is located right next to the bathroom on my floor.
So close, in fact, that if my finger had a pee hole I could reach out and relieve myself without ever having to stop typing .
(ew, gross)
The good part is I don't have to go far in case I have some sort of peeing emergency and have to go within 30 seconds or the world will implode.
The bad news is I have a bionic sense of smell and between the odors from the bathroom and the funky lunch smells from the kitchen, I spend a good portion of the day wondering if I am smelling what people are putting into their body or letting out and trying to ignore it either way.
Again, ew gross.
But this isn't a post about poo, this is a post about air fresheners.
DOWN WITH AIR FRESHENERS!
Air fresheners do nothing other than make odors smell like pomegranate scented death.
They don't make the smells disappear or improve, they just make the room smell like old people who think it's a good idea to spray their entire bottle of Wal-Mart brand perfume for the big Bingo tournament.
Someone has recently brought in a bottle of rose/horseradish/petrol scented spray into the office because apparently they save their "private bathroom time" for work instead of home. Since I have the luxury of sitting next to the porcelain palace, I get to be surrounded by the luxurious nursing home scent.
I would describe today's scent as "bouquet of roses dipped in Indian food".
Thank goodness for turtle necks.

Viscious

Hi my name is Cat, I am 26 and I am still afraid of the dark.
"Hi Cat"
In all seriousness, or ridiculousness, I am afraid that monsters will come eat me at night.
Not in a schitzo "I talk to dead people" way, more in a "I revert to the age of five at night" way.
When I am home alone and have to go from the kitchen to my bedroom, I turn on the light in my room...then go back to the kitchen...turn off the kitchen light and SPRINT to my room.
Whew, safe from the evil monsters that wanted to eat my face on my way to my room.
But I'm not free and clear yet.
From there I turn on the TV so there is a light source, then I turn off the bedroom light and do this acrobatic leap (aka belly-flop) onto my bed and pull the comforter up to my neck.
Phew! The monster under my bed didn't grab my ankles and pull me into his torturous cave that exists in the black hole between my mattress and the floor.
I KNOW I'm not the only one who has this flavor of crazy in her life, be honest, you all do it.
Why is it we feel so vulnerable in the dark?
I don't even watch horror movies and yet I am still convinced that there is something terrible lurking in my home waiting to make me into corned beef hash.
And while we're on the topic, does anyone else think their comforter/blanket is some sort of protective shroud that will fend off all evil? Even in 90 degree summer weather I pull it up to my neck because, goddess forbid, if I have just a sheet on, I am not protected from the Underbed Demon.
Feel free to share your crazy in the comment section.

A Note on Aging

You know your getting older (and you're a huge dork) when getting new toothpaste and floss evokes the same level of excitement as a Barbie once did.

In Hell

I despise the sound of packing tape.
DESPISE.
At work we have to put together packages from time to time and we have to seal the boxes with that clear packing tape on a dispenser (pictured above for your viewing pleasure).
My ears bleed and I start convulsing while making the face you make when you take a sip out of your soda that someone had put their cigarette ashes in.
You know the face.
I have come to the conclusion that if Satan actually exists, his voice sounds like packing tape.
Imagine dying and then reaching some sort of after-life and seeing this super hot guy walking toward you and you're all "whoo hoo! I made it to heaven, hello hot heaven man"
and then he opens his mouth and it's all "eeeeeeeeek scratchetyhighpitcheeeeeeeeekkkk"
And then you think "$&*^@#%^&" I shouldn't have used my teachers pet powers to get Mike Berry demerits in Middle School even though he didn't do anything other than be a tool-bag with a giant chin.
"eeeeeeeekkkk screeeeettttccchhhhhceeeeeekkk"