why do i tell people about this stuff...

I have been picked on at work for the past two days by George Shabo...but my problem is I tell him about the stupid stuff that happens to me and that I do. For example, yesterday morning started very late and made even later by little Molly seeing me leave and crying at her window for me-"No Momma, don't yeave (leave), Momma, don't yeave...How could an individual with even an ounce of soul even leave (yeave)? So of course I turned around. So at 7:15 I am on the road. Much too late! At the Wells entrance of the the turnpike there is a sneaky spy way to avoid the traffic that has built up at that time in the morning. You pass on the right and turn into the train station lot and hit the light there and go straight across onto the turnpike entrance. Well yesterday morning, without even thinking I went for the secret spy way...BUT this morning there was a cop sitting in the entrance. He waved at me and I waved back. Folks he was not just saying howdy. No sirree bobbee. With a $139 ticket in my bag and tears streaming down my face from frustration and anger I was on my way to work. George is the first person I see as I walk into work so I share-at first he is sympathetic, but then he TURNS on me...oh yes He turns...Pass on the left-Beth...Oh please Beth go ahead-you will just pass me anyway...We should have a hat and jean day for Beth to raise money for her ticket (I thought that was a great idea by the way)

But the story gets better...today, this morning I am frantically looking for a phone number of a new parent. I can not find it anywhere so I decide to dial information. I pick up the phone and we have to dial 9 to get out on our phones. (Yes our phones are so ancient) Instead of dialing 9-4-1-1, smooth fat fingers Nason dials 9-9-1-1.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Oh my god-no emergency I say...I was supposed to dial information 4-1-1..."we are going to have to send a police officer over to where you are to verify everything is okay! What is your address?" OH MY GOD-NO! "yes ma'am we are going to have to do that." 5 minutes later-"Good Morning Detective Hemmingway-yep it was me. I know I am a doofus.
Who do I see when I am walking back to my office-George Shabo-merciless. Though he said I need to go to Las Vegas. I will probably win big (or lose everything).