Craptasm of mega proportions with the business trip. Do you know what it's like to have to share a room (all right, not a room but there was a door separating our rooms so technically it's the same damn thing) with your boss? Your much older, farty boss who likes to hang his faded-assed boxers on his shower rod (NOT a euphemism) because the genius monkey forgot to pack clean underwear and now you know the man went at least two days commando?
I should have called his wife. Instead, I gouged my eyes out with the nasty toe nail clippings he left on his high-gloss dresser. WTF?!
You're probably wondering what I was doing in the man's bathroom. I swear, it wasn't anything illegal or naughty. Trust me, it sure as HELL wasn't naughty. Now if it had been the creamy deliciousness of my supervisor and not the boss-man faux manager type, I'd have had a sexy red nighty on. And in that fantasy, supervisor hotness would have been commando everyday and healthy but trim nails. HE would not have left his skid-mark ass prints hanging in the restroom when I HAD TO GO and the maid needed the room. I know we could have had our meeting elsewhere... and WOULD have if it had been planned instead of impromptu, "Mia, I'm an asstastic skid marking commando sporting toe-infected-with-some-unknown-fungus-of-sunshine-yellow-ew who can't remember where he put the BlahBlah Company files we need in zero point three seconds".
Instead, I am now completely sightless and suffering from PTSD featuring waking nightmares of boss-man's bid'ness sprouting mushroom head fungus to match his gnarly toes.
I'm just saying.
And because I love you all so much and have been unavoidably away, here is an extra day to comment and submit your names in for a the basket drawing... yes, even if you already did so earlier. I'm a giver.