Aha, Take THAT!
So this is how it’s going to be. Me writing an entry to keep Amy from writing mean haikus about me. Me not writing an entry for two weeks and then finding dirty limericks written about me on the bathroom stalls at work. Me writing three entries in a row and then nothing until someone threatens to send me a Gucci purse full of Anthrax.
Look, there is only so much that I can do here people. And writing is kind of boring right now. I have much more important things to do with my day, like count the ceiling tiles above my cubical or think about who would win in a fight: Mighty Mouse or Spider Man? Sure, I could write a blog post about the doctor who hit on me while I was running her orientation. Please call me LLCoolG. Or maybe I could talk about how upset I was when my boss counseled me about appropriate clothing for work because someone at work thought I was showing too much cleavage (and if by too much cleavage they meant none, then I totally agree, otherwise stop staring at my boobs you stupid freak).
I know there are things I could write about but really things just aren’t funny the way they use to be. There is no way to make trying on bathing suits in the dead of winter funny (Bruce and I leave for a vacation that takes place south of the border but not in Mexico in three days). Also not funny is the smashed passenger side window and stolen GPS, the fact that my apartment is never totally clean, and that I seem to slowly be gaining even more weight.
Of course there are the other things, you know the good things, like the fact that my hair has won back my favor and devotion, my shoe collection has grown to a new level, and I haven’t killed Bruce yet. And even with all the crap that work has brought with it, I am doing well there and have begun to learn the names of people I see daily. Eventually I might even become friends with some of my co-workers, baby-steps people, baby-steps.
All of this leads me to believe that my life is nothing more than normal. Ordinary. Run of the mill. Heck, I even live in the suburbs. So like I said in the beginning, writing about my life now is boring for me. Feel free to blame Bruce he’s the one who made me sober up and straighten out.
Oh, but as it’s about that time, I thought I would tell you one funny story that I haven’t before shared. A few years ago for some sort of gift giving event, I gave my brother-in-law a picture frame. And in that frame, was a picture of me and his younger brother. At the time it didn’t occur to me that it takes a special kind of person to give a picture of themselves to someone else as a gift. Now, whenever I think of it, I kind of laugh. But even better than the fact that it makes me laugh is the fact that even with my new insight about the type of person who gives such a gift, I would still give someone a picture of me as a gift. I’m still that special type of person bitches.