Today was our annual office Thanksgiving potluck. As I am on the company events committee, I stayed behind after everyone had eaten to clean up the mess. Because I was wearing a silk shirt and washing dishes, I put on an apron to prevent water from splashing onto my shirt.
At one point, one of the mailroom guys walked in, took one look at me washing dishes in my apron, and said "you're going to make a good wife someday."
I'll take it as a compliment with insulting undertones.
November 19, 2013
November 14, 2013
Shitting and Eating
Shitting is nobody's favorite thing, but a necessary evil. Eating, on the other hand, is probably my favorite thing in the entire world.
For the sake of sticking with my metaphor (possibly to a fault), I shit each week for 10 hours per day for four straight days. When I'm not shitting, I want to be as far removed from my shit as I can possibly get. Unfortunately, un-named male coworker (but different than this un-named male coworker), that means that when you ask me to dinner and I say 'no' 5 different ways, please take that as a subtle hint that I have no interest in mixing the two (I may have used the exact phrase 'I don't shit where I eat' as one of my let-downs).
I'm sure one day, once you stop obsessing about me to your gossipy work buddy, you'll find a lovely girl who works elsewhere (or a girl who doesn't mind finding a new job when you break up). Also, gossipy work buddy tells me you're reading into ridiculous details as signs that I am secretly interested in you? Unfortunately, I'm am not, but I'd like to thank you for reminding me why dating (or trying to date) coworkers usually ends awkwardly. Please let me shit in peace. I hope we can remain friends (okay, maybe I couldn't care less, but I'm trying to be the bigger person).
Also, even if you were not associated with my shit, I just don't think I'd be interested, but that's a story for another time (...perhaps a statistical analysis of the likelihood that I will die alone?)
For the sake of sticking with my metaphor (possibly to a fault), I shit each week for 10 hours per day for four straight days. When I'm not shitting, I want to be as far removed from my shit as I can possibly get. Unfortunately, un-named male coworker (but different than this un-named male coworker), that means that when you ask me to dinner and I say 'no' 5 different ways, please take that as a subtle hint that I have no interest in mixing the two (I may have used the exact phrase 'I don't shit where I eat' as one of my let-downs).
I'm sure one day, once you stop obsessing about me to your gossipy work buddy, you'll find a lovely girl who works elsewhere (or a girl who doesn't mind finding a new job when you break up). Also, gossipy work buddy tells me you're reading into ridiculous details as signs that I am secretly interested in you? Unfortunately, I'm am not, but I'd like to thank you for reminding me why dating (or trying to date) coworkers usually ends awkwardly. Please let me shit in peace. I hope we can remain friends (okay, maybe I couldn't care less, but I'm trying to be the bigger person).
Also, even if you were not associated with my shit, I just don't think I'd be interested, but that's a story for another time (...perhaps a statistical analysis of the likelihood that I will die alone?)
November 12, 2013
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