Perverts and Whacking

Multiple choice, test your knowledge:

If Franny wakes up late for work and breaks her toe on the corner unit and slips in the shower and has the kids all pooing themselves with the runs and spends the morning scrubbing shitty carpets and then dings the car in the parking lot and then gets flashed by a smelly pervert in a trenchcoat on the stairwell to her office, what do you think her reply is when the coworkers brightly say "lovely morning, isn't it"?

a) "The world is a pit of despair and we are food for worms. How are you?"
b) No reply. Just blood.
c) "I'm sorry, could you repeat that so I can laugh my ass off maniacally on cue?"
d) "Never a finer day!"

Answer at bottom of post.

Usually, I am the Queen of the Pokerface. Well, at work anyways. At home, the rewards for whining and complaining and mewling in despair are far too great. I mean, who wouldn't exaggerate when there is a warm, cuddly man willing to listen and assuage you with fast food? Eg:

Me: Everybody hates me. I'm a failure. At everything. And I'm fat too. And not just fat. Gross, disgusting, shut-in fat.

Hubby: Aww sweetie, *hug*, sounds like you need some Taco Bell.

At work, the reward for mewling wouldn't be quite the same:

Me: Everybody hates me. I'm a failure. At everything. And I'm fat too. And not just fat. Gross, disgusting, shut-in fat.

VP of Tech: Well, I suppose we could get you a bigger chair...

So, in conclusion, don't whine at work. But lately there have been questions. People have noticed that I am a bit cranky. I have been 'accidentally' biting heads off. Even when I try to be charming, it comes out the wrong way. Like when my boss tried to tell me not to worry about the deadlines, and I told her 'omg! deadlines rhymes with HEADLINES!' and then started laughing my ass off, and she backed away from me...verrry slooooowly...

I suppose I am a little tired, probably due to the ragweed season, and the conflict in the middle east and a lack of sleep due to excessive online whack-a-mole, (which I have gotten very good at. In fact, at real, carnival whack-a-mole, I have NEVER been beaten. Like really. I am the Whack-a-mole queen! I have an entire basement full of excessively large stuffed animals that I have won.). But, oh, I digress.

Tonight, sitter permitting, hubby and I are going out. Maybe that's all I need, a little WE time. We can have some Taco Bell, make fun of people that aren't us, and maybe, just maybe, find a carnival where I can Whack the shit out of some helpless little moles with that huge padded Whacker. AND, if I bring the scissors, and if we time it just right, that Whacker is coming home with me for the next person who pisses me off! I bet next week is gonna be smooth sailing!

See I don't need a shrink. No one does. All any of us really need is to get some sleep, and to carry a big Whacker.

Oh, and the answer is (d). Usually.