5 year plan

I could be considered an adult, in some social circles. People around me are married, have children, own homes, buy cars, have credit cards. This weekend I drove 123 miles to ask my dad for money. And I tell you what, that never gets old. But neither does being able to pay the bills, so I guess it works out. . . No matter how many times I work out my budget, I still manage to come up short. I'm starting to think that I sleep spend.

Oh Horriffic Embarrassment

Getting your foot in your own mouth is a universal problem in the greater New England area. In the rural areas, the fault lies in people who have poor conversational skills attempting to make meaningful conversation. It should be enough to ask me how I am, and then confirm that they too are doing well, but it never is.

I was pushing my grocery cart up to the casheir counter, and the 30-something casheir says to me, "Isn't it so hard to try to diet on a budget?" And I looked at her, then into grocery cart, then at myself. What was it about any of these things that said I was on a diet? Or, worse, what was it about me that said I was on a budget?!

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I was buying scrubs for work recently, and the casheir said to me, "Oh, you must be a nurse!" And its true, I do work in the medical field, but I'm not a nurse. My boyfriend says, "No, she's just planning on getting fat."

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Which reminds me...
Ever have a sex dream about a co-worker, then when you're at work and they give you this look, this 'I know what you did, you sick pervert.', look? Or worse, you feel as if they're tormenting you, you ask for a pen and they say "Yeah, you want it??" And even though its completely impossible, you still can't help but wonder to yourself 'how do they know this?!' and then you promptly avoid eye contact for the rest of the time you're working there.

Joke of the day: All the girls I knew in college were bi. I'd mention sex and they'd just raise their hands and say 'Bye!'

Black Out

As you probably already know, I'm a terrible fan of domestic abuse.

A few months ago I was sitting on the T, on one of the older bench style underground models on the orange line, and this girl sits down across from me and she's had one black eye, and -- I kid you not-- a fist shaped bruise on her right cheek. And I'm wearing my dark sunglasses, so I can pretend that no one knows what I'm looking at. Not that anyone would notice what I was looking at; we're all gawking at the human meat bag sitting across from me. Regardless, it made me regret not paying more attention in Spanish class, so she would understand me when I yelled, "Bet 'cha wont do THAT again!".

--- On a related topic...

Today, at work, I was completing an intake form for a woman with a bruised chin and two black eyes, and being the naturally curious but non-threatening person I am, I asked her "So, what happened?" And she told me that on Sunday she slipped getting out of the tub, and I said "Oh, is THAT what they're calling it now."

I do believe God gives us second chances.