Moving Too Fast  

I don't have a whole lot of time today, mainly because I'm busy as hell and am writing this post in place of the only bathroom break I had scheduled myself for the next 6 hours, but sometimes these sacrifices just have to be made. Although I am kind of regretting that biscuit and sausage gravy breakfast chalupa I had second helpings of this morning.

My goal for this brief window of blogotivity is to try and determine how frequently (if ever at all) you find yourself on the receiving end of your own stupid mistakes. By way of example, here are two such mistakes -- both of which happened to me YESTERDAY -- that could have been easily avoided by simply paying better attention:

Mistake #1

I spent close to an hour carefully and lovingly crafting a message that was set to be distributed to a group of 15 or so people; people who are an important part of a project I am working on and for who this message was admittedly overdue. But I was determined to make it count, so I took my time, chose my wording carefully, and proofread like a motherfucker. Fully satisfied with my work, I slapped on the closing and fired it off. The first response was received within minutes, and instead of the praise and thanks I had been expecting, it simply said "nice closing dude". Turns out that at the end of my very well thought message, I signed off with the rarely-utilized colloquialism "Retards". I should have known adding that to the spellcheck in Firefox would come back to bite me in the ass someday.

Mistake #2

Before sitting down at home to get started on some work, I set a glass of water and my daily allergy pill on the desk, heading off to the other room to grab my notebook. When I got back I tossed my notebook onto the desk and accidentally knocked the pill onto the floor, presumably into the dark corners of Narnia that reside beneath my desk. However, imagine my surprise to find that the pill had only fallen right in front of my chair! For a lazy cheapass like me, the thrill of not wasting precious pill money and/or the energy required to walk back to the medicine cabinet was exquisite. I picked up the pill and swallowed it with ease, throwing in a mental F you to my body's overzealous histamine response for good measure. Fast forward to the moment when the pen I'm holding slips from my hand and onto the floor. I lean down to pick it up and notice that there, sitting right next to it, is the allergy pill I dropped hours ago... making me wonder what the fuck did I swallow earlier?

Even if you're not the kind of person to frequently screw yourself over in such a manner, you can still meet me halfway on this one by sharing in the comments the last and/or worst time you did yourself in. Not that my soul is fed by your anguish and embarrassment or anything.

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19 Reasons to Live

  • Brooklyn  
    March 17, 2010 at 10:33 AM

    Don't worry, that was probably just the flea pill your dog threw up earlier. It might help with your problem, down there...

  • Jen O.  
    March 17, 2010 at 10:42 AM

    That's it. I'm ending all of my business emails "Retards". I think the Accessibility and Sensitivity Committee might get their panties in a bunch, but they'll see my way when I explain how funny the word "retard" is when used as a pet name for your coworkers.

  • Steam Me Up, Kid  
    March 17, 2010 at 10:45 AM

    I spent 10 minutes in the driveway talking to the plumber before I noticed that my hoodie was unzipped to my waist and I only had a bra on underneath. Then I decided zipping it up in front of him would be too awkward, so let it be and I pretended I meant to wear it like that.

    I can't stop laughing at your closing line.

  • Amanda West  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:09 AM

    Oh my gosh! That was hilarious! Made my day...

    Ever figure out what the hell you swallowed?

  • Logical Libby  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:09 AM

    I actually end all of my emails with Retards. Then again, I work in television, so it's expected.

  • Jenny DB  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:20 AM

    hmm, when i decided it would be a good idea to let my dog get exercise by me taking him for a rollerblade. drunky. no i did not wear leg warmers. yes it was disastrous.

  • shine  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:25 AM

    You're so pretty.

    I accidentally had the wrong signature turned on when I sent out an email to one of our clients from our company email account. She has now read my blog.

    Goody.

  • Losing It  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:28 AM

    I had made a giant (GIANT) cauldron of hot tea, let it cool and went to pour it into an equally giant glass pitcher. Turns out, the tea wasn't as cooled down as I thought and the pitcher fucking EXPLODED, sending shards of glass and fucking hot tea water EVERYWHERE, including my bare legs. I still have scars from the glass/tea on my thighs. Awesomesauce.

  • Scribe  
    March 17, 2010 at 11:49 AM

    I work for a promotions company that sometimes does orders of logoed shirts. In an email to a client, I forgot the "R." Yes, I wrote "your shits are ready for pick-up." I feel your pain, Jay. Good luck with the mystery pill.

  • Fat Sparrow  
    March 17, 2010 at 12:18 PM

    That closing line is just pure brilliance.

    I wouldn't even know where to begin, this is stuff that I do on a daily basis... especially the pill thing.

    One time in high school I came out of the locker room after P.E. with my mini-dress tucked in to my nylons, so my whole arse was showing, and no one told me about it so I walked around all through lunch time that way, it didn't hit me til I sat down on a cold seat. And then there was the time when "Kiss Me" came on the radio and I said to a friend "God I hate Dead or Alive," and my friend replied "So do I, but that's Tin-Tin." Which, if I would have been lamer, I would have known. That was embarrassing.

  • hotpants™  
    March 17, 2010 at 1:04 PM

    I will always think of The Hangover when I see or hear the word Ruh-tard.

    I can't think of anything stupid I've done recently. Watch... something really bad will happen now.

  • veach st. glines  
    March 17, 2010 at 1:55 PM

    Talking on the telephone with a District Attorney (who'd, eventually, prosecute the criminal investigation I'd briefed her on) - She got to talking and went on and on (and on). I settled into that almost-automatic: "right", "yup", and "Yes, ma'am" thing...there was nothing to do but let her know (when her voice rose in inflection at the end of a sentence) that I was still on the other end of the line. I remember thinking: her voice sounds almost like Mom's.

    Then, she ended with, "Ok...get back to me when you know anything more; I'll talk to ya soon."

    I said, "Luv Ya" and hung up.

    (I considered calling back but decided any foolish attempt at an explanation couldn't be worse than doing nothing. She never mentioned it.)

  • Shannon  
    March 18, 2010 at 6:17 AM

    I once worked at a steak house, and came in to work one day half out of my mind on Hydrocodone. Yes, I really was sick. When you seat the guests, you're supposed to give them the "all the sides and salad dressings are made from scratch, the steaks are hand cut every day, we have fall off the bone ribs, fresh baked bread, etc" schpeal. Well, when I was seating this family, I told them that we had fresh cut hands. And then I laughed. I don't know if they stayed to eat or not.

  • Moooooog35  
    March 18, 2010 at 6:23 AM

    On the bright side, we'll finally get to find out if birth control pills work on guys.

    Thanks for taking one for the team!

  • carissajaded  
    March 18, 2010 at 12:43 PM

    Dude I'm constantly doing stuff like this. I'm not going to go into the deets, but the worst was when I mistook a tube of icy hot for vagisil in the dark.

  • Johnson  
    March 19, 2010 at 8:48 AM

    A friend of mine had a similar experience when we were both working as line cooks. Except instead of a pill, it was a chicken wing that he dropped on the ground.
    And instead of a desk that it rolled behind, it was a nasty old deep fryer.
    And instead of swallowing it himself, he served the chicken wing to our manager.

    Moral of story: Don't eat wings at Crabby Joe's.

  • Sarah  
    March 19, 2010 at 7:39 PM

    If ever?

    This is my life. You, sir, have had my life for one day.

    To save some space, here you go:

    Why you should let your kids call genitalia by cutesy names: http://tinyurl.com/yhfq5e3

    How not to get laid:
    http://tinyurl.com/yh8lo4w

  • LiLu  
    March 24, 2010 at 7:08 AM

    DAMMIT. Ten to one odds I sign something "Retards" today now...

  • spleeness  
    April 1, 2010 at 2:14 PM

    RETARDS!! I freaking love it. I just burst out laughing. But at least I was only laughing. When I got to the random pill, I ruined my screen with all the spewing. (Which is hot, is it not? lol)

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