Bored? You should head over to www.tmi2day.com and check out why yours truly is everything you thought I was and then some.
Triathlete? Check. Social worker? Check.
....Professional writer? Check!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Caution: May pass out at any given moment.
The source of my sanity.
Work is killing me these days. Every day I go in super pumped for a new day, and I leave exhausted wondering if I actually got anything done. The joy of social work is that there is definitely job security (lots of screwy people means lots of job opportunities), but it also means that no matter what you do, chances of coming up with and implementing a solution are slim to none. That means stress. And requiring a kitten.
Speaking of kittens, we were out finishing our Christmas shopping yesterday and were in Bobby's least favorite store in the world, which is also consequently one of my most adored retail experiences: The Hallmark Store. Bobby claims everything in the store is useless, which is why I love it. The only purpose their merchandise serves is making people happy. While I was paying for my gifts, he spotted a little bowl full of pocket stones. They're little pseudo-coins that are meant to be kept in your pocket and inspire you to be or do whatever the little coin says. They probably cost half a cent to make. Huge profit margin. Anyway, after his soap box about the uselessness of Hallmark's knick knacks, imagine my surprise when he picked one up and said he was getting one for me. It said "Purrrrr-fect" on one side, and had a cat on the other. "Here," he said, "you always say you need a kitten when you've had a bad day at work. You can pet this when you're stressed out."
Cute right?
So I walk out of the store, all happy and pleased with my adorable husband, when he says, "Good. Now you have to stop bugging me about getting a real kitten."
Turd.
Six days until we'll be in Kansas. Rock freaking chalk. Three cheers for vacationing.
Work is killing me these days. Every day I go in super pumped for a new day, and I leave exhausted wondering if I actually got anything done. The joy of social work is that there is definitely job security (lots of screwy people means lots of job opportunities), but it also means that no matter what you do, chances of coming up with and implementing a solution are slim to none. That means stress. And requiring a kitten.
Speaking of kittens, we were out finishing our Christmas shopping yesterday and were in Bobby's least favorite store in the world, which is also consequently one of my most adored retail experiences: The Hallmark Store. Bobby claims everything in the store is useless, which is why I love it. The only purpose their merchandise serves is making people happy. While I was paying for my gifts, he spotted a little bowl full of pocket stones. They're little pseudo-coins that are meant to be kept in your pocket and inspire you to be or do whatever the little coin says. They probably cost half a cent to make. Huge profit margin. Anyway, after his soap box about the uselessness of Hallmark's knick knacks, imagine my surprise when he picked one up and said he was getting one for me. It said "Purrrrr-fect" on one side, and had a cat on the other. "Here," he said, "you always say you need a kitten when you've had a bad day at work. You can pet this when you're stressed out."
Cute right?
So I walk out of the store, all happy and pleased with my adorable husband, when he says, "Good. Now you have to stop bugging me about getting a real kitten."
Turd.
Six days until we'll be in Kansas. Rock freaking chalk. Three cheers for vacationing.
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