This is for you. Enjoy.

It’s a Friday, I am fed up with office politics, and I just want to go all Anthony Anderson al la Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle in my office, but I can’t because I will get fired.

Instead I will go put my junk mail back into a different groups mailbox to take the piss out of their admin, again.

Yesterday I went to a Nutritionist to verify that I am eating healthy in a way to gain muscle mass. It was also the only time in my life when I wished that I had an eating disorder, because without an official eating disorder my health insurance isn’t paying for my visit to a nutritionist. Apparently they would rather pay for the medical bills of people who never knew that there was a healthier way of eating, when their liver or kidney shuts down – they’d rather pay tens of thousands of dollars to allow the person to suffer miserably.

So now I’m officially out $125.00 – OUCH!

Did they think that I only went to see a Nutritionist so that I could make a new friend in the form of someone with a Masters of Nutrition while whoring her out to Cigna’s health insurance plan coverage?

This would have been partly true in my case, because when the Nutritionist was walking me through the hallway to her office I noticed that she hadn’t zipped up the back of her skirt fully, and her butt crack was being flaunted with each step that she took.

Having just met her, I didn’t dare say anything along the sarcastic lines of “Nice ass.” “So that’s what yours looks like!” Or “You sure keep yourself clean back there!” Instead I just peeked, and stayed quiet about the whole thing, cause that’s what new friends are for, while wondering if she had just been fooling around with someone in her office when I rang her buzzer.

Before I went, I had to keep a food journal of what I had been eating for about a week, and all of that anal retentive work and patience on my part gave the Nutritionist the thoughts of “You’ve been eating really good for the most part already. You should try eating some nuts as a mid morning snack instead of a Power Bar. Also, try and squeeze in some more fruit, vegetables, and an extra slice of bread.”

I walked away slightly disappointed, and I think that this was due to my hoping that she would have informed me of some secret food group that I had never heard of, a food group that only the chosen people can find out about, one that was delicious, low cost, and easy to make, but alas, none of that happened – apparently I am not one of the chosen ones, but at least I got to see part of her behind…

The pizza guy in the cafeteria was selling personal “MARGHERITA” pies.

It looked so good that I think I would like to grab some frozen margherita’s after work…

All of you can stop all of the worried emails to my attention, and to answer a few people who will remain nameless, no, I did not give up blogging during Lent.

There was an unfortunate fall involving a loved one that required a visit to the ER, (everyone is fine with the exception of being really sore and will be fine long haul) which was interesting for me in the fact that there were lots of creepy people being cared for in the ER, and while I was waiting outside the CT Scan room a dwarf technician or doctor of sorts came out of the CT Scan room. It was so cool!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, little people just make things better, they make me smile, and it’s so true. I was standing there worried that there might be some brain swelling or bleeding, when the CT Room door swung open, a woman who appeared to be in her 50s, with the shortest of hair that was bleached blonde stepped out, and all of 4’4” tall – poof a dwarf – proceeded to walk past me into a room that had “screams” coming out of it. The sight of the little person made me feel quite relaxed, and happy.

God bless America, land of the dwarves!