I've balanced my checkbook. I've switched over to my 2006 organizer. I've cleaned out my old lunch bags in the fridge and alphabetized my professional journals and even dusted my calculator - WHAT DO I DO NOW?????
I'm not used to slow work weeks.
The devil's plaything
Smoking out a little scoundrel
I just ate an orange out of the fridge at work, and now that the deed is done, I'm starting to wonder if it was my orange that I just ate. Naughty. I hate it when people eat my food out of the fridge. That being said, stealing some stuff is more forgivable than stealing other stuff. For example, bread is only a minor offense. Even if someone takes a few pieces there's usually still plenty left, and it's easy to get at the convenience store on the corner. Same with peanut butter (although this is a little more annoying), jelly, milk, granola bars, etc. But swiping fruit is unforgivable. You just shouldn't eat other people's fruit. Fruit is hard to remember to bring in, and difficult to transport. And not replacable locally in downtown Boston. At least, not replacable at the same quality level.
The orange was a really good one, which makes me think that maybe it was mine after all. Not that my oranges are always good, but I usually get them at Wholefoods, which guarantees a certain something (namely jacked up prices and faux organic labling, but on the plus side yumminess).
The thing about eating someone else's orange is that everyone else can smell it. So if it's not yours, you usually get questioned by whomever's it was. So far no one has lobbied any complaints. I guess I'll just have to wait. For that, and for the parking garage around the corner to find out I tried to scam them out of money last weekend. Hopefully no one will catch on to me and my dirty little tricks. I better learn to fly straight. Waiting around for the ax to fall is brutal.
You say tomato
Jack (my stepfather) and I had this IM exchange today:
LC: okay, great. i will see you on saturday!
Jack: when are you cmming home?
Jack: sat---ok good
LC: yes, saturday. in the morning is when i
LC: will leave. so i'll get home in the afternoon.
LC: and will see you then!
Jack: be carefull check you tires before you leave
Jack: also check oil
Jack: we can replace your back tire if it is still leaking air when you are home
Jack: don't speed police are out on the holidays
Jack: no cell phone that is dangerous
Jack: see you then---i am going to pay a few bills and run-----love j
LC: that is a long list of things to be careful of, check, and not do.
Jack: yes leave early
The language of love is so varied. But after twenty-two years of arguments, head-butting, and stubborn standoffs (on both sides), I can recognize it when I see it.
Thanks TD
This conversation took place over IM this afternoon. I feel better now. Thank god for coworkers who can throw in the word "eureka". That changes everything when you're having a less than stellar day :)
TD: laura whats the word that would say those before you ...pred......
TD: ?
LC: predecessors
LC: check spelling
TD: eureka....thanks
LC: welcome
Quit picking on the small kids
Okay, I need to vent. This is what I have to say: thin people get a lot of crap. And we're expected to just take it.
Never in a million years would it occur to me to comment on someone's weight, exercise routine, or lunch. Yet I'm subjected to other people's comments on each of the above almost constantly. My coworker TD only eats an orange because she's not very hungry today, and no one bats an eyelash. I turn down a late afternoon cookie BECAUSE I JUST DON'T WANT IT and everyone's got something to say about how I never eat junk food. Which, if you know me, isn't even accurate, because I eat dessert on a daily basis. With more regularity than I eat anything else. But the thing that gets me is, even if I didn't, WHY DO YOU CARE WHAT I EAT?
Part of the problem is that we only see in two dimensions. Has anyone ever stopped to consider that someone might be thin and not belong in a treatment center? But here is the crux of the issue for me when it comes to people commenting on anyone's weight, food, or exercise habits: Mind your own business! Seriously. My sister always laughs when she recites what my mom used to tell us when we'd whine about one another. She would very matter-of-factly say: "You just worry about you. That's all you need to do."
So that's it. That's the very simple solution I'm offering up: Everybody just worry about yourself and your own damn cookie. Then we should get along just fine.
A small perk of a loathful condition
BF and I are going to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, on a school night. I love being an adult.
Monday night wish list
I wish:
1. people who litter would spontaneously combust
2. I wasn't scared of the basement
3. someone would fix the @!#&ing escalator at Davis
4. I didn't have staff meeting tomorrow morning
5. my roommate wouldn't use the furniture as a drying rack
Movie magic or should I not even be allowed to watch TV right now?
Okay, The Wedding Singer. When Adam Sandler sings that song at the end, "I wanna grow old with you", to Drew Barrymore? That'd make anyone cry, right? I don't feel like I can trust my own judgment at this point, but that's the sweetest thing ever, isn't it? A three-tissue moment? Of course, I'm not only hormonally questionable tonight, I'm also getting sick. And for some reason just before I get sick I always morph into an emotional cripple. So I could be wrong here.
Tear jerked
The movie Stepmom is on TBS (note, sooooo NOT Very Funny) and I have PMS. Watching this is just finishing me off in one fell swoop. Is there anything more heart wrenching than Susan Sarandon saying goodbye to the children she'll never see grown up while Julia Roberts waits in the wings to take her place? I need a bubble bath, a box of tissues, and some high grade chocolate to recover. Better yet, fighting it is pointless - I'm just going to cry for the rest of the afternoon and call it a day.
