Vacations are harder than I remember.

I created an entire list of things to do - it’s already Tuesday and I haven’t even made a dent! I woke up early this morning determined to conquer my laziness. I made coffee, took a shower and then sat down for a quick peek at my favorite blogs (I couldn’t help it). The next thing I know I have spent the last hour indulging in the latest and greatest from the Glamour blog team (Come on! Glamour blogs?? What the F is wrong with me?)! But it was then I realized that it didn’t matter – I’m on vacation! I don’t have to stick to schedules or arrange To-Do lists. For the next week I am free to wake up late, read mindless blogs for hours, and do crap load of nothing. I don’t even need to drink coffee in the morning. Of course, there is a whole lot I do want spend my time doing but I will not be getting upset if I don’t stick to it. Horary for epiphanies!

Quitting a job is like sex on a first date

Quitting a job is like sex on a first date. It causes strange emotions: a mixture of excitement, dread and anxiety. An adrenaline rush followed by a huge sense of relief.

There is also a certain process; courting your boss, so to speak. You draft a resignation letter, schedule a meeting to present your letter, and then, well, present your letter.

Of course, after doing the deed, there is always a reaction: good, neutral, or bad. The boss with the good reaction provides a counter offer and is the girl who gives you her number (her real number). The boss with the neutral reaction provides you with a box and tight lipped good luck, this boss is the slut who called you Bob when your name is Alex. The boss with the bad reaction is the one who escorts you out of the building without allowing for your full two weeks to expire, this boss is the girl you called Bob when her name is Alex.

Corporate Narcolepsy

I'm seriously beginning to wonder if narcolepsy can be an acquired syndrome caused by one's own horrifically boring work environment, rather than just a genetic neurological condition. As of late, my intermittent workday dyssomnia has begun to concern me. I will be staring at my computer trying to piece together mundane items at work and the next thing I know, I face plant into my laptop keyboard with a complete feeling of bliss as though it were as soft and comforting as my pillow at home. I've recently learned to close my eyes and nap with my head still relatively balanced on my shoulders while sitting in a working position behind my desk, almost appearing to be adamantly reading some important document about whatever on my computer. This camouflaged napping style helps avoid those keyboard workplace injuries when the forehead slams and dislodges the "j" and "k" keys and lodges them into your eyeball.

Regardless of whether there is medically proven evidence to back my hypothesis that work causes narcolepsy, I still plan on using it as a valid excuse for that inevitable day I wake from my serene desk nap and find my boss leering at me with disdainful eyes.

Caffeine: The world's most popular drug

Damn Starbucks. I am addicted and the store front, green in all its glory, is consistently staring me in the face. The front door flirtatiously persuading me to walk through with woman like sex appeal. The windows, welcoming and warm, give the feeling of being home for the holidays. I sit here at my work desk, innocent - puppy eyes in tow, begging for an ounce of relief, a ten minute break to relax from a stressful day in the comfort of this bistro's black iron patio chairs.

Fast forward 30 minutes: Coffee...2 shots...espresso...Next thing I know, eight hours of work is done and I'm furiously cleaning my desk with Windex. Legal crack for sale, I swear.