Iím only in the office
2005-05-05, 11:11 a.m.
Iím only in the office for a few hours today, because today is my friendís momís funeral. Well, memorial service. She passed away a couple of weeks ago, but when you cremate, you have some leeway in the scheduling of things.
Iíll be leaving early so I can go home and iron DWís ďniceĒ clothes.
Him: Do I need to wear a suit?
Me: Hereís where you have been very smart. You keep expectations very low as far as your wardrobe, so I think you can get away with pressed khakis and a button-down shirt, either long or short sleeved.
Him: Sounds good.
Me: Iíll iron for you. You really have done a good job at keeping peoplesí expectations low. They wonít recognize you in a shirt with buttons, and the sleeves still intact.
Him: Bite me.
On another wardrobe-related tangent, I dressed in decent clothes today, but forewent drying the hair and putting on makeup. I look good from the neck down, unless you look at my feet. I took my shoes off and am shuffling about the office barefoot. So professional! As I left the house this morning, I told DW Iíve given up Ė no makeup, no dry hair. And he so very sweetly replied, ďYou havenít given up anything. Youíre beautiful.Ē
AWWWWW. Doesnít that just melt your heart? See why I love him? I do bitch and carp, but heís the nicest person Iíve ever met.
I heard through the workplace scuttlebutt that some of the residents on one of our properties are very concerned about the on-site manager because, and I quote the rumor here: Laura is so difficult to work for.
HA! HA HA! I am not. Iím easy. I just want folks to show up, get off their fat asses, act like grownups, and treat residents with respect. So if that makes your job difficult, bitch, bite me.
If I were to get a tattoo, it would the word ďEASYĒ written between my shoulder blades.
And finally, along the lines of "She turned me into a newt! I got better", I bring you this good news:
My brother-in-law does not have prostate cancer. All is well.
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