"You're over me? When were you *under* me?"

Do you ever have one of those days where you’re just over it? 

Over the goddamned weather.  This incessant combo of heat, humidity and rain has made me downright surly.  And a little bit ugly (see curly hair and bangs that won’t cooperate).  Smile all you want you damn TV meteorologists. I still kind of hate you.  (Except for you, Mike Woods. I know it’s not *your* fault!)

Over Disc 1, Season 4 of "Damages" being on a VERY LONG WAIT at Netflix.

Over the person in your world (friend, co-worker, significant other, whoever) who is just whiny or draining or annoying or constantly pushing back or just downright exhausting to be around or listen to?  Who makes whatever “it” is unnecessarily harder than it ever needs to be.  Who has lost their sense of humor.  Or never had one in the first place.  Next.

  

Over the need to work to live.  And waaaaaaay over bringing work home at night.  Though beats staying late because at least at home I can get comfy and blast music and have the TV on in the background if I feel like it.

Over the three people who insist on walking side-by-side, slow as molasses, on a busy sidewalk, ensuring the only way around them is to hop into the street, into oncoming traffic, and try to pass them.

Over the people who don’t let you off the subway before they try to shove their way on.

And over the people who insist on standing at the subway door even though they have no intention of getting off so I have to shove past them or risk winding up down at Penn Station.

Over any "news" report having to do with what celeb will be on "American Idol", "America's Got Talent", "The X Factor", The I-Couldn't-Give-A-Damn.  Unless it's "The Voice" and it's about Billy Joe Armstrong.  Never over that.

  

Over people who don’t pull their weight.  At work. In life.  

Over broken escalators at really busy subway stations with really huge staircases.  Yeah, I'm looking at you 51st and Lex. 

Over people who insist on telling me how pale I am.  (Oh, gee!  I never noticed my skin tone despite living a lifetime looking at this body of mine.)  And, b-t-w, these people who I’m referring to are the ones who make certain to say it in such a way as to equate my being pale to being about as attractive as a pile of poo. 

Over my broken closet door.  Though I should really just get over *myself* and find someone who can fix it.  Or like my friend Rachel would say, find a guy who does stuff.

Over people who set you up just to knock you down.

Over the alarm clock.

Over the neighbor who cooks food that smells like feet and subsequently makes the hallway smell like feet. But not just any feet…hot feet…because it’s hot and humid out!

Over the subway being delayed.  Or stuck.  And super over the platform being a hot box of hell.

Over bad hair days.

Over the bitchy trainer at the gym who hoards all the equipment for her client.  (Now this is someone I *should* be getting along with, seeing as how I’m all bitchy and such.  But oddly I kind of wanted to go off on her today, when she once again stockpiled medicine balls and the coveted 7.5 pound weights for her client.  Who she hugs.  Which, incidentally, I’m not just over, I’m weirded out by.

Over people who try to make you feel guilty for not paying enough attention to them.

Over the cashier at the supermarket who still insists on loading the OJ, milk and bag of apples in one bag and the bread and cold cuts in the other. Putting all the heavy stuff in one bag...not as helpful as you might think.

Over going from extreme heat outside to extreme cold inside.  It’s just a ticking clock before I get sick. And I’m grateful for the a/c – I try to never complain about being cold - but good god my body was not happy today!

Over people who mistake kindness for weakness.

Over people who don’t have any respect for my time.

Over the pharmacy line at CVS, where no matter what day of the week it is or what time of day it is, it's always an epic shitshow. I should take my business elsewhere, but I'm a sentimental fool for my H.S. job.

Even Michael McDonald knows
how sweet freedom is, Suri!

Over the K. Stew/Rob Patts cheating scandal.  Don’t like them.  Don’t care.  Can we please go back to talking about The Emancipation of Katie & Suri?

Over people who are obsessed with juicing (drinks not ‘roids, all you Clemens fans out there).  And who are obsessed with giving way too many details on “do you have any idea what a cleanse can do for your body”.  Uh, no thanks.  Don't want to know what it'll do for me and certainly don't want to hear about what it did for you.  Would rather drive needles into my eyes.

Over Mercury being in retrograde.  Right yourself dammit. I’m exhausted from the struggle!

  

What can I say? I’m having a case of the Mondays on Tuesday.  It's weird, but I’m generally really happy these days.  I swear.  I'm coming off a great weekend with the ladies.  Still essentially loving the new job and making some headway on the projects at hand (though, there’s a reason they say work would be great if it wasn’t for the people…there’s always a few I could take or leave. Or both.)  I have good people in my life.  I'm having fun.  I’m sleeping well.  I’m in the midst of a great book (thank you again Emily Giffin). 

But I have to say, this weather has been the trigger finger on my “over it” rage.  It’s really just knocked me down and taken me down for the count.  I'm not one to give in.  At least not without a good fight.  But right here, right now (Jesus?  Jones?  That you?), I’m too tired to fight back anymore.  

If there's a ring, sadly, my towel is in it.  

So for now, I’m dreaming about fall.  When the air is crisp.  And sweaters are a go-to. When it’s cool enough that you don’t start your day with little pools of sweat on your forehead, but not so cold that you need a coat and gloves or a hat.  When the umbrella is tucked away and the only things falling from the sky are the leaves (in oranges and yellows and reds, of course).  

And even though last night I had a dream that I was at a comedy club and this guy that I dated in high school ("dated"...LOL...) was doing a stand-up routine because he was tired of being an accountant… (wait…what…random…and for the record have NO IDEA what this guy is actually up to or why he popped to mind after all this time, since I'm fairly certain the last time I saw him he was hammered and slurring...a combination that is far less attractive when he's no longer the Captain of the football team and I'm no longer in HS)…so my nighttime dreams still need a leave a little bit to be desired, but my daydreams consist of fast-forwarding or, better yet, leapfrogging over  the month of August. Because ever though it technically hasn’t even started you…you guessed it…I’m totally OVER.  IT.

So do tell....what are you over?  And did anyone catch where I nicked this excessively clever title from?  I know it has nothing to really do with what I wrote, but this is just how my brain works.  

And last, but never least, this is where Spotify led me tonight...classic...in total excess...