Okay, I hate this. Forget what I said about liking it. I hate it. I can't do anything right. Matt had to bail me out on two tattoos today. My lines, the most important part, were too wobbly, not smooth. I am leaving light spots in my shading. I hate hurting people. It was 70 degrees outside and I had to get my doo-rag out to keep the sweat from dripping in my eyes. I am definitely too old for this.
Also, people are annoying me. Already. Jen who wanted butterflies on her foot: "It's awful hot in here, isn't it? Whew, let me take this shirt off. I gotta stand up fer a minute. This is bad. This really really hurts. This stool hurts my butt, too. Don'cha have cushions for these stools? This stool really hurts my butt. Oooh, ouch, close to the bone there. God, this hurts. If I had known how much this was going to hurt...." Well, duh.
Even worse, there was Nick: "That's okay, hon, I don't care if you hurt me. Don't you worry about hurting me. Do you see that white spot? I think I see a tiny white spot there. You'll have to go back over that spot near the line. Anytime you wanna stop, hon, I wouldn't mind a cigarette break. Don't worry, you're doing a great job, Barb." Hon? Hon? I probably had my first grandchild before he was born. I wanted to smack him. And I wanted a cigarette break, too. Nick took my business card. Please don't call me, Nick.
Lisa dragged out the chart to show us that Thursdays are not smiley face days. Next week: all smiles. Yeah.
Fell asleep on a wet head last night for quite a hair disaster this morning. $170 vet visit for Eli before I even went to work. I wanted to stab Jen's foot into the stool and duct tape Nick's mouth shut. Peanut butter and jelly in the car for lunch. Everyone there had problems. Work went very slowly, didn't leave until 5:30, then had to go back out to pick up Lauren at work. Drove aimlessly around Atria, washed two days' dishes, ate Stouffer's mac and cheese. Should have gone to bed early but here I am, watching a repeat of Barack on Letterman.