I hate potlucks

Yesterday's potluck was annoying, mainly because of the 20 minute time limit but also because I forgot my stupid dish. I spent the night before buying supplies for and preparing the stupid artichoke dip, and I left the damn thing in the fridge. This would not normally be a problem, but I have one of those 'case of the Mondays" sort of people in my department who kept saying that i needed to leave during my 20 minutes and go buy something to donate because it wasn't fair for me to eat otherwise. The same thing happened to a colleague. I ended up donating a bag of chips and package of twinkies from the vending machine. she wasn't pleased. My colleague did as she was supposed to and skipped lunch. I practically skipped lunch seeing as though there was nothing appetizing anyway. I think my meal consisted of some cream cheese ball thing and crackers. Oh, there was some homemade strawberry trifle thing, too.

Today before I even got out of my door for lunch, 2 people in my department rushed in asking if I had brought my donation from yesterday and today. I brought my dip and come store bought cookies from the bakery. They weren't pleased with the fact that the cookies were store bought (even though some other tool brought a lemon cake from Walmart, and everyone oohed and aaahed about how fucking phenomenal Walmart's bakery is). The dip was a hit, though.

Slim pickins at this luncheon, too. Here was what people brought: rotissere chicken (Store bought, mind you) and scissors to fucking cut off a piece; my dip; green bean casserole (ugh); fruit salad (store bought); 3 types of cake; my cookies; iced tea in a jug

I ate my dip and 3 pieces of cantaloupe. The thought of the chicken and scissors disgusted me; I hate green bean casserole; the fruit salad consisted of 2 grapes, a buttload of honeydew, and cantaloupe, so I ate the cantaloupe; I hate the cookies I brought, and I didn't want the cake. Well, I take that back, I nibbled on the walmart cake to see what the fuss was all about. I should've brought this cake for the damn fiesta.

Here's the other thing I hate: Secret Santa. K. The instructions say to spend no more than a dollar to five dollars a day for a week (not in excess of 15 for the whole week) on your santa person. My person said that she liked coffee, mounds, turtles (not the chocolate ones), ceramic dogs, and doorstoppers and decorated her tree in red and gold. I bought her the following: Day 1. an oversized coffee mug, an individual pack of gourmet coffee (enough for one pot) and some chocolate stirring sticks (oops they were kahlua flavored--hope she's not a tea totaller); Day 2. a red and gold hand blown ornament; Day 3. a pumpkin spice jar candle; Day 4. an assload of mounds candybars in a cute container; Day 5 will be tomorrow. a gift certificate to Starbucks and a little gift basket thingy from there. I might have gone a little over 15, but it's within a decent range.

My secret santa, however, (oh, sorry they are secret angels this year) spent ungodly amounts of money on me. Each gift was about 15-20 bucks (i know this because she left the price tags on). I feel like an ass, now, because not only did I not buy a ceramic dog turtle door stopper (Praxis, can you pick one up for me at the dollar store?), but I didn't spend nearly as much as everyone else's secret santa did. I'm like the welfare santa, and I'm gonna get bitchslapped with Southern hospitality tomorrow.

Grumble.