Wednesday, March 04, 2009

My Horror

Yesterday, I had to dress up for work because a VIP was in town.  I was examining myself in the mirror to make sure I passed muster.  All of a sudden, I spotted something white on my Navy pants.  Horrified, I looked closer.  Yep, I had a hole in the crotch of my pants.  Since this is only the third time I've worn these pants, I can only imagine it was caused by me trying to stuff my gargantuan arse into a pair of pants that are slightly too small.  (Thank goodness for Spanx.)

I had to go back to my desk and safety pin the crotch of my pants.  Horrifying!  

Luckily, it was great motivation. I didn't get any potato chips out of the machine - I just happily ate my apple.  I also went to the gym and ran until I felt like I was going to throw up.  Good times!

On a Serious Note

I'm getting so annoyed when people complain that their grandchildren are going to have to pay for President Obama's budget.  So what?  They're already going to have to pay for that ridiculous Iraq War that Dubya invented. In fact, if it weren't for that stupid war, we wouldn't be in the mess we're in today.  What has it gotten us?  No weapons of mass destruction, no democracy, and I'm not convinced that the Iraqi people are better off.  Just billions of dollars and too many lives lost.

Here's the thing:  You better hope President Obama's budget works. Otherwise, your grandchildren aren't going to be able to pay for anything because they'll be unemployed and homeless.  No one else is spending money, so the government has to.

I'm sure people bitched and moaned about the New Deal when that came around, but it pretty much saved our country during one of our darkest periods.

And what's with all the Republicans saying they hope President Obama fails?  Seriously?  You want our country to get WORSE?  'Cause things are not going so well.  Home prices are plummeting, unemployment is skyrocketing.  Huge well-run companies are going bankrupt. This is not exactly a great situation. 

 If I start having to make tomato soup out of ketchup (in one of the historical romances I read about the Great Depression, they had to do that), I'm going to be pissed.

Although, maybe I wouldn't have to safety pin the crotch of my pants if I ate ketchup soup.

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