sometimes weekends are mean

oh hai. we meet again.  and on a monday.  a monday that involved me waking up late (as per usual), not showering (also typical), and kind of wandering around the house like a zombie trying to get my shit together so i could get to work on time.
the weekend was total shit.  because it's weekends where you have to cram two restaurant shifts, running, a birthday party, frantically finishing orange is the new black, and also trying to get your lazy on that make you hate everything because really all you wanted to do was hang out in a dark place with your kindle smut (i realize that i might be the only person out there that considers being by myself in the dark with porn-y type books to be normal and also preferred but that's fine and i'll own it).
on weekends that i work shitler just sits at home on his ass watching netflix and binge eating ice cream treats and it fills me with so much rage that i consider punching restaurant patrons in the face.  and naturally - friday was no different.  and it's even worse when he posts lame facebook status updates because i consider it to be a personal affront. 

and when i arrived home at 12:15AM after a brutal sixteen hour work day shitler was still watching friday night lights.  and i think it's fair to say that i'm not sure which one of us drools over that tim riggins character more.  but that's neither here nor there.  because i called it a night so i could get up early-ish and get some mile-running in.  and after 7.5 miles completed i just couldn't even wrap my brain around marathon runners and also people that enjoy it because i prayed for death every step of the way.  and then after i ran we decided that we should return things from our wedding party and also find shitler a new wedding band since the noob that initially ring sized him didn't know what the acutal shit he was doing and shitler's ring would just like fall the fuck off.  so after running 7.5 miles i got to do more walking around and then i had the pleasure of working a restaurant shift where it felt like my legs were actually going to fall off and everyone tipped like shit so the night was a total bust.  but then we went to a birthday party and shitler selfied on my phone by spinning himself in a circle like eleven times and just snapping pictures the whole time.  and then someone was taking a picture of us shitler was clearly doing other things.  like taking more selfies.

and then i got drunk.  like real drunk.

like decided it was appropriate to try and find my brother a girlfriend by asking girls at the bar if they had boyfriends and/or husbands and shitler was like "you can't just ask people that" and i was like "why not?  i'm just cutting right to the chase."  and i think he maybe thought i was going to get my ass kicked but whatever.  and then we went home and i was the type of drunk that wakes up with their underwear on inside and drinks gallons of water in bed while eating toast with all the blinds drawn waching forgetting sarah marshall and loving the part when mila kunis yells "DRACULA MUSICAL" but like "shhhh mila don't yell 'dracula musical' so damn loud."

and that was it.  because the only productive thing that i did yesterday was move from my bed to my couch.  oh and i fixed my underwear and also put on a shirt.

and in other news i literally cannot stop losing my shit over this damn song.

this has no title

i deserve some sort of reward for showing up to this blog two days in a row. i would suggest that someone buy me a drink but i've decided to make a bold decision and give up booze till i get married.  which, if you're counting, is four months away.  also i've decided to go cold turkey on everything delicious.  so basically no carbs, no sugar, no salt, no tasty treats.  because i feel like i'll never have a better reason to not be chubby ever again other than getting married.  so i should just man up and be miserable for the next four months.  sidenote - if you're my friend on snapchat then you'll remember the snap i sent you last night of shitler eating a sandwich in bed?  please know that i stared at him eating that sandwich like some sort of beggar dog.  it was embarrassing. 
but whatever.  here's a semi-recap of this weird week.

1// shitler did some ice fishing.  but it was like balls cold out so really he just set some tip-ups and watched for flags from inside the house.  it's equal parts genius, pussy, and loser.

2// samm was in milwaukee and made the trek out to okauchee to get drunk-ish with me.  THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR.

3// so apparently there's a new show coming out called "king of the nerds."  something about being the ultimate "nerd off."  you can read about it here.  but more importantly one of the nerds looks exactly like shitler and i about fall off the couch each and every time there's a preview for it.

4// uncle rico and those big sad eyes.  BECAUSE YOUR DOG LIFE IS SO RUFF.  rough.

because duh, obviously.  packers beat the bears.  NFC NORTH CHAMPS YA'LL.

that's all i've got.  i'm going to go chug a bunch of water.  like so much water that i want to explode.  but hopefully that will dull the hunger pangs.  the ones that are trying to convince me that it's ok to gnaw off my own arm.

dear tom brady

dear tom brady, fuck you.  no really.  i stood a fighting chance had you simply decided to be a bit more present in yesterday's game.  instead you did nothing but get me negative points and cause me to internally rage.  i know you have a lot going on in your life.  i can only imagine your love of gisele, ugg boots, your children, and now apparently turtlenecks can be overwhelming and hard to juggle but i'm going to need you to do your job.  and that job is throwing mother f'ing touchdowns and getting me monster fantasy points.

via

you're stuck with me tom.  so i'm going to need you to nut the fuck up for next week's game because week five was just garbage.  are we clear, tom? shit like this will simply not do.

god it just makes my brain explode TOM BRADY.  does it make your brain explode?  i sure hope so because that was quite the poor showing.  you get paid an annoying amount of money to do one thing - THROW TOUCHDOWNS.  so get it together and do so.  please and thank you.

sincerely,

shannon aka one seriously pissed off fantasy owner

p.s. you better hope my kicker gets like 45 points tonight tom brady.  or else.

anyway.  now that that's out of the way.  tom brady just takes me to a level that i don't like to stoop to but it was necessary.  he's not going to get that tough love anywhere else but right here.  so he should really thank me.

with like a check.  for a lot of money.

how are all of you kids doing?

super i hope.

aside from the train wreck that was tom brady yesterday my weekend wasn't altogether that terrible.

i read a book.  mindy kaling's book actually.  she has a really great section on "best friend rights and responsibilities" that is truly a must-read.  this is the best quote about best friends.  ever.

then the packers won (even better because they beat the lions).  and i got to play with a kitten.

and the tom brady bullshit aside if every weekend included the packers winning and just a bunch of kittens i think i would be the happiest person alive.  

like in the history of the universe.

but that's it.  that's all i did. AREN'T YOU JEALOUS. whatever.  it's sami time.

why don't i photograph weddings for a living?

i should have done this thing where i got an early start on the gazillion pictures i have from the wedding we went to this weekend.  but like "hi my name is shannon and procrastination is my thing and also laziness."  and mainly when i started going through all the pictures i realized the immense undertaking it was and also i couldn't stop laughing which led to coughing which led to me wanting to lay on the couch and rest.  and by rest i mean watch hours of revenge and compulsively check my fantasy football leagues.
but i digress.  because the task at hand is far more important than my yammering on about how useless i am. so shitler's gorge-ina cousin got married this weekend. ms. cassandra jo was like BEYOND pretty and i thought about punching her in her stupid pretty face on more than one occasion but like blue and purple totally weren't her wedding colors so i refrained.
so basically what's going to happen is that i'm going to cram all these photos down your throat while intermittently talking about them.   and this is just installment one.  with the camera that takes all the nice photos but these people manage to make everything look un-nice in the best possible way.

^^ WHY ARE YOU SO PRETTY CASSANDRA!? ^^

naturally there's always just a lot of general debauchery that goes on whenever there's a shitler-side-of-the-wedding that happens.

things escalated when shitler decided it was time for that pesky long-sleeved shirt to come off. 

and then shitler decided it was time to channel a serial killer.

and then obviously the groom/bride and her brother danced their faces off.

but shitler was not to be about to be out-done.

i'm thinking of starting my own business.

one in which you hire me to capture all the nonsense at your wedding and then like you can also hire shitler to behave like a raving lunatic/dance machine at your reception.

because who really wants the "beautiful" moments when you can have the most ridiculous ones?

we'd be unstoppable.

call us.

p.s. linking up sami.  and whatever there aren't a lot of words.

p.p.s.  blow me.

mostly all about nothing

hey girls hey. what's the haps?  have i missed anything fantastical?  probably.  whatever. i come to you on this monday morning feeling triumphant.   kind of like this.

why?

because i've broken through the haze of the viral chest infection that crippled me for two weeks.

officially i'm not 100% better but i finally feel like i don't want to kill myself every morning.

so i win.

naturally i'm going to make the rounds of all the weekend recaps and i'm fully bracing myself to be insanely jealous of all the people that did all of the things.  because i did nothing.

i had the pleasure of not actually seeing shitler for almost like a week.  and it was heaven.  mainly because in my continued haze of sickness i could lay on the couch and watch my shit television and wallow in how gross i felt without him there to shame me.

so are you ready for the inane boring-ness that you're about to read that i'm going to attempt to make interesting?
you were born ready?  i thought so.

friday night i made it back to the restaurant to work a shift and not be a mucusy-sick-piece-of-shit-that-coughed-all-over-everyone's-food (i don't know why i included all those hyphens but i like the way it looks).  i need you all to understand that i work with quite the diverse group of fucking weirdos at the restaurant.  and i use the term "diverse" to make it sound nice because no i don't like all of them.  but i also don't hate all of them.  so there's that.  so here's a tiny snack of a story for you.

everyone that has served has gotten a shit tip.  it happens.  and then you go in the back and you curse that person, and their mother, and their grandmother, and then possibly hex them with black magic.  but then you move on.  because while it does happen it just doesn't happen that often that anyone should dwell on it.
unless you're of course my co-worker.  said co-worker ran their ass off for this table.  and when it came time to close out that ticket the co-worker realized that on a $68.68 tab the customer had left them a total of $70.  basic math shows us that said co-worker received a whopping $1.32 as a tip.  

blows big time, buddy.  

after said co-worker was done complaining in the back all the rest of us thought the debacle was over and done with.  much to our surprise - it wasn't.  turns out crazy-bad-tipping-lady forgot her phone and said co-worker insisted on holding onto the phone until crazy-bad-tipping-lady came back in to retrieve her phone.  upon arriving to pick up  her phone said co-worker decided to verify with crazy-bad-tipping-lady that the tip was correct by asking whether or not her experience at the restaurant had been satisfactory, whether everything was to her liking, and whether there was anything wrong with the service that had been provided to her.

this was me as i was informed of the situation:

because c'mon guy.  crazy-bad-tipping-lady left you a shit tip.  get over it.
in no way, shape, or form do i ever think that fishing for a reason you received a bad tip from a customer is ever a good idea.  fact of the matter is that the lady probably has a black heart that beats for nothing but evil and probably leads a miserable life that she wishes other people (like her server) would lead with her.

life lesson: if you've never served and a server inquires as to the quality of their service - it means they think you left them a terrible tip and they're hoping to shame you into leaving them more.
fun fact: although i'm one way messed up in the head person - never have i ever done that nor would i ever consider doing it.

anyway - that wasn't even the highlight of my night.
that came in the form of mean girls 2 - which i discovered, watched in its entirety, and then hated myself for afterwards because that shit was terrible.  then i did laundry and made the mistake of watching what to expect when you're expecting which led to ugly crying by myself at 2AM.  and there wasn't even booze involved.

i roasted chickens.

i told my mom i would make her chicken salad.

really i made her chicken salad so i had a legit reason to roast chickens so i could eat the crispy chicken skin.  

exciting stuff here, people.

i decided to actually use the wifi printer shitler got me for my birthday back in may.

and by "decided to actually use" i mean i laid on the couch and hit the print button over and over again.

that guy knows me inside and out.  anything i can do from the couch without having to move much is basically a favorite past time of mine.

and then i laid some more on the couch and watched boats go by.  and then i thought about how it was a beautiful day out and that i should stop being a lazy piece of shit and go outside and do something.  but then mainly i just got distracted by revenge and watched murphy lee watch all the outdoor things.

so ya.  that was the weekend.  clearly things were OUT OF CONTROL.
which is exactly why i'm going to link with sami and tell the f'ing world about it.

if i were to imagine hell i think it would be a lot like my weekend

i'm finally starting to crawl out of the hole that is this sickness that has been plaguing me for over a week. typically it's just allergies and i can load up on various allergy-related medication and feel fine in like mere hours.  but apparently this nasty thing had other ideas.  it started as just a minor cough.  a tickle, if you will.  and then it launched itself into a full body attack where i couldn't breathe without coughing, couldn't stand without coughing, couldn't do anything without coughing.  and by coughing i mean all-out gasping for breath coughing that often lead to dry heaving which usually led to heavy vomiting.  and you know how there's always one giant indicator that you're actually sick?  like you just know yourself that well that you know if you're doing that one thing or not doing that one thing that it means you're actually ill?  in my case - not eating indicates i'm actually ill.  and i barely ate for the last week.  my brain would tell me that i was hungry but then get me around food and it's like my body was all "hell naw." so after five straight days of eeking out a meager existence on water, over the counter cough remedies, and mouse-sized nibbles of food i decided to wave the white flag and go to the doctor.  i'm not a giant fan of the doctor because i have this insurance that makes you pay for everything out of pocket until you hit your two-thousand dollar deductible and i considering my nasty history with all things pneumonia i was terrified of the doctor and their expensive x-rays.  and although i was not excited at the prospect of paying through the nose for x-rays i couldn't help but be semi-relieved at a diagnosis that would mean antibiotics and that would eventually lead to not feeling like death warmed over.  but alas - the doc informed me that is was nothing more than a viral chest infection and that two inhalers, a shit load of mucinex, and enough water to effectively drown myself would be the key to feeling better. so now that i've set the stage i'm sure you're dying to know what the weekend was like, right?

i struggled.  i was scheduled to work at the restaurant, which, couldn't have been better.  i mean - i know everyone is just dying to be waited on by a girl who sounds like she's coughing herself into an early grave.  at some point in the evening my manager took pity on me and cut me loose.  it should have been cause for celebration except i had a text from shitler telling me to pick up ground turkey and rice because some douche dog had the hershey squirts.  IN OUR BED.  so i spent my friday night cooking mac-dizzle ground turkey and rice and monitoring his whereabouts to make sure he didn't journey back upstairs to do a #2 on our bed again. p.s. there's nothing better than cleaning up stinky, doggy diarrhea in between coughing fits.

 
after practically OD'ing on mucinex the day before my body decided to expend any and all fluids via my nose and mouth during a restaurant meeting that made me contemplate death more than i normally do on a daily basis.  then i tried to fake it through a family BBQ wherein everyone knew i was sick because i abstained from all things alcoholic.  i managed to make it through three hours but nothing was working.  simply existing made me miserable and i had to bail on the party.  upon arriving home i had the most violent of coughing attacks that led me to upchucking the food i had managed to choke down and then i felt like this:

it was at this point, the lowest point i like to think, that i said "fuck it" and drank an unhealthy amount of all night-time cough/cold related things, popped some muscle relaxers, and watched three weeks worth of so you think you can dance (including the finale) episodes, and yelled things/threw my dirty tissues at the television because i hated who won until i eventually passed out for the next twelve hours.

also - i found this somewhere and couldn't stop laughing.
jury is still out on whether it's like actual-type funny or just "shannon was on too many drugs" funny.

sunday i tried to force myself into not hating my life by dumping a bunch of stuff into a crockpot that i thought i would be interested in eating later.   spoiler alert: it didn't work.
but this guy just watched me from the couch the whole time.  mac-dizzle AKA runny poops a lot.

and yes that's all my dirty laundry.  and yes that's a gallon of water.  and yes that's a rabbit statue. WHAT OF IT.
anyway - it's tuesday.  and it's starting to feel as though there is a legit light at the end of this tunnel.  i haven't had anything alcohol-related in over a week which i think is a true testament to how actually under the weather i am (a metaphor i never truly understood).  in the meantime i'm just over here taking personality tests that reveal i'm most like draco malfoy from harry potter.  #sadtrombone and please still like me even though my personality reveals i'm most like a story book villain.  
i cannot get back to this soon enough: