Recently on my mind:
Whenever people ask if I'm married, I tell them no, and then look down at my hand as though checking to make sure nothing important has happened while I wasn't looking. Why do I always do this? I'm about as far from married as it's possible to be, and pretty ok with that too.
The wretched place where I had my last job is closing at the end of the month, and I am way more entertained by that than is polite.
I have amended my earlier elevator issues: Please just don't make me get off first, whatever order we entered in. If there's something about to eat the first person off the elevator, I'd rather it be you.
The Fed-Ex guy left a package for me under my doormat yesterday. Somehow I don't think that my doormat is much of a theft-deterrent system, but I suppose I appreciate the thought.
Inside that package was a fondue pot.
I will take pictures this weekend. I will take pictures this weekend. I will take pictures this weekend. I will take pictures this weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment