It’s me. The end.

So I’m sitting at work, right?  All ready to do some travel agent.  I turn on the computer, go through my emails and check the list of pending reservations.  So far so good, right?

Boot up the internet and all hell breaks loose.  Here’s what ensues:

Checking Yahoo mail.  Leads to clicking on “My Yahoo” for customized list of celebrity news.  Where I proceed to read about Pete Wentz Makes Out With Guys! or Amy Whinehouse Back To Rehab!  You know, the important stuff.

Next, I look at my bank account.  Balancing the checkbook — very very necessary.  Now, the phone is probably ringing somewhere around this point, but I am in a trance-like state and most likely ambivalent to outside work-related noises.

It happens.

Gotta catch up on my fellow bloggers!  Might as well click on their Flickr links while I’m there.  And of course, I can’t forget my online book group.  After all, I’m the moderator, and therefore must lead a good example.  Otherwise, the ladies in there might go all kinds of crazy.  Lorraine, you know how you do.

Customer coming in.  I heard our door ding.  As long as I face this way, they can’t see me.  I have the invisible shield on.  La la la la la la la!

Speaking of books, Amazon is fun to browse through.  I like to do my research, keep up on my favorite authors, maybe perhaps buy a book that I will read in about 3 years.  Again, very important shopping to be done here, as you can see.

Oh, wait!  The Good Cook Book Club is having a summer sale!  One can never have too many cookbooks, can they?  Or really, any kind of item that is 50% off.  Because truthfully, it’s practically saving money to buy it.  No matter what it is.  Plus, I can justify a sale like nobody’s business.  Which is how I became the owner of that nail care kit I can’t use.  And the two super shammies I bought for … you guess it … the price of one. 

Time for a breaky break!  All this working’s done worn me out.  Horray for lattes, I’d say.  Or doughnuts.  Cookies … chips.

Dammit!  There really shouldn’t be coffee or a Quizno’s nearby.  It make me fat.  Blah.

Anyhoo, back at work.  I’m on level 37 on Diner Dash.  I swear, I’ve been on this level for two weeks, and if something don’t happen pretty soon, I may go all l;sdlkjl;gakjj;lkdj on my computer.  Seriously, how hard is it to sit the little people down at their little tables and bring ‘em a dadgum sammich?  If it wasn’t for the businessmen talking on their cell phones the whole time, everyone else in the diner would be much happier and wouldn’t leave the table without paying their bill.  And then I’d get more points and get to move to level 38, and …

Shizzzzzzznit.  Phone again.  Figure I should answer it but my finger’s got a cramp.  Oh well.  That’s what the co-workers are for.  I likeee them.

Screw Diner Dash.  I’m going to see what else I can play.  Ooooh, Sally’s Spa looks fun.  And Burger Island, and Dress Shop Hop.  I’ll just download all of them cuz options are nice.   In the meantime, better check the email again.  Cuz Brad is no doubt stalking me this morning.  It’s what he do.

Guess I better write me a blog post.  Entertain my peeps.  I don’t have anything interesting to say, so it’ll probably take me a couple hours to come up with something worth writing.  I’ll just have to think a bit.  So I’m gonna lay my head down on my desk for one li t  tlllle .. s .. ec … dgh  arfdg ifdjkj

…

…

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Whaaa… ??  Woah.  Where was I?

Hmmpfh.

Well, the point of the story (you forgot there was one, didn’t you?) …

I have Work ADD.  I cannot concentrate on one thing at all whatsoever when I’m at work.  It’s nigh on impossible.  My mind flits back and forth between thoughts like I am a Brad on the interstate with no cops around.  It’s crazy.

However, odd thing is … I can concentrate like hell when watching DVR, reading a book, or eating mashed potatoes.  Just try rousing me out of my stupor then, my friends.  Either I ignore you or I bite you.  It’s that simple.

Now, before mom gets upset, I must say this Work ADD only applies to travel agent.  Cuz when I’m at the video store, I am a drill sargeant.  For reals, you should see me.  I never ever sit down or fall asleep in tanning beds.  Ever.  When customers come in, I am the first to greet them, and never do fake vom noises in the trash can when smarmy Bob heads off to the Big Bed.  I pay for all my candy purchases, and vacuum the corners.  I make little girls pay for candy bars they try to steal and scrape off gum they try to eat from beneath the clearance bin.  I am G.I. Jane but without the bald head (or rock hard body, but whatev).  No one messes with my mama’s store.  Period.

(Mama, you should so be laughing right about now.)

Alrighty, I’ve been typing this post long enough.  Gotta get back to work.  And by “work” I mean … well, you know what I mean.  That ADD thing strikes again.