The Over-Educated Nympho

It’s a beautiful fucking day. Too pretty to stay inside the office for lunch. I came home at noon for the sole purpose of driving on the highway with the windows down, radio blasting, and feeling my mess of hair whipping around my face.

If anyone saw me peeling out of the parking lot at work, it would be no secret that I need to get the fuck away from there, which is nearly every damn day. I do it so regularly I’ve got it down pat–one hand rolling the window down, the other hand shaking my hair loose from its professional up-do and then twisting the radio dial to find the perfect SEE YA, CORPORATE MOTHAFUCKAS song, all while driving with my right knee.

It’s the days like today when I wish I lived further away from the office so I could enjoy the seventy mile-an-hour rush of freedom for just a little longer–especially now that I can experience the full effect properly with sunglasses (which came at a great but worthwhile cost).

–looks at clock– Twelve forty-five. Fuck. Time to go back to the Land of Professional Behavior. Fucking asswipes can suck my left one and choke on it.

–slips feet back into stiletto heels and takes final bite of cold lunch–

They may drag the cubicle monkey back to her desk, but they can’t keep me from escaping day after day. I’m only getting feistier.

–peels out of apartment parking lot to go back to office–

I had my Lasik surgery on Friday morning. Now that the smoke from my burning eyeballs has cleared, I can tell you all the shit that really goes down during Lasik that you won’t read on the official sites.

Before I explain in detail all the ways they bitchslap and manhandle your eyeballs that is surely similar to tactics the CIA uses during terrorist investigations, let me say IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT. In spite of knowing what I know now, I would do it again. Although I hope I don’t have to. The one time was really enough to hold me over for this lifetime.

Onward to the explanation of the bitchslapping of eyeballs:

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