Life is chock full of delicious ironies. Being the cynical bitch that I am, there's a weird little joy I find in noticing what makes this world so bloody ironic.
Exhibit A: The crux of the Terri Schiavo case is the removal of this woman's feeding tube which would inevitably end her life. The heart failure which put her in this permanent vegetative state was brought on by complications due to an eating disorder. If there is some shred of Terri Schiavo still extant in her fleshly shell, I hope she is well aware of the delicious irony of her unfortunate situation. Finally, her desire and right to starve herself to death has won out.
Exhibit B: About a month ago, I was a bit by a retarded, chubby dog in my neighborhood. A week or so later a friend rescued a stray Staffordshire terrier in her neighborhood. Now Dog Bite Girl may very well become the mommy to a pit bull. Meanwhile, some asshole owners in Spottsylvania let their ill-trained pit bulls roam free. Two people have been attacked by these dogs, and one died as a result. The irony is so viscous it just drips off of this one.
Exhibit C: My company has just come out with a new recognition program for years of service. So at the five, ten, and twenty year mark we get these gift certificates in increments of $100, $250, and $500 respectively. The gift certificates are pretty cool and can be used in multiple different places (J. Crew! J. Crew!) Here's what sucks: I've been here seven years at the end of this month. The program is not retroactive. So I've got to suffer it out three more years before I get my "recognition" and a nice outfit from J. Crew. Here's what sucks AND oozes irony: Everyone else on my team celebrates their five year anniversary THIS YEAR. So I get to watch while all my teammates enjoy a free shopping spree to the tune of $100 even though I've been toiling in Corporate Hell for TWO YEARS longer than they. Yeah, swell.
In honor of Everybody's Irish Day, the Capitol City is enjoying some charming Emerald Isle-esque weather. Gray skies, rain/ snow. Let's all raise a pint of Guinness.
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1 comment:
No worries: you're scheduled to receive your 5-year reward for being married to me this year! And that's worth more than some silly $100 gift-certificate.
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