I woke up this morning and sneezed 14 times in a row. I took my organic allergy pills, which halted the sneezing but caused the leaking of tears through my left eye. Strange.
When people call, sometimes they rush through their requests, slurring their names and the names of those with whom they wish to speak. Sometimes I mess their names up as a result and I pretend to be sorry. Know this: I am not.
Sometimes when these people are in such a hurry, I take my time dealing with them. I enunciate and pause for effect: "Can you hold . . . please?" I saunter instead of trot to let the person know they have a potentially important call. If they'll take it, I'll mosey my way through, "Just a ... moment, I'll ... transfer you ... now" and press the appropriate buttons as deliberately as possible. I hope they think I'm a complete idiot who takes such pride in her phone calls as to give each such special attention. That way they won't expect much more from me.
I've always wanted to be the type of girl who can wear complicated underwear. Yesterday proved that I never will be. I was wearing an attention-seeking little slut of a thong that simply refused to stay out of sight. It escaped from me more often than I was aware of, I'm sure, and did a little song and dance for those following me. I chastised it properly after each known incident but everyone knows that you can't keep a good whore down. Needless to say, I'm working the granny panties today.
I've never been very good at peeling oranges. I'm not sure what this says about me, but now you know. I mention this because I'm currently relieving a tangello of its skin and it's way easier.
one year ago today: nothin.
two years ago today: nothin.
three years ago today: nothin.