Ask a stupid question.

"Why are there socks on the couch?" -me
"Because I took my socks off. See? No socks." - mike

I have to remember to avoid asking rhetorical questions to a PhD student.

Argh.

At what age do you stop getting shampoo in your eyes? because I want to be that age.

So this is growing up?

I have always hated change. It didn't matter how slight, I hated it. When my mom used to clean my room (yeah, my mom used to clean my room, so what? jealous much?) I couldn't watch; it sent me into a panic attack. Whenever anyone used to tell me they were thinking about moving from one apartment to another, or changing jobs, or dating someone new, I was against it. Fervently, and without reason. I recognized it as an immature part of my personality, and always I hoped that someday I would grow out of it. I assumed the nature pattern of growth would be that I would realize within my heart of hearts that that other person's actions had no baring on my life, and I have no right to act as if I have any say in what they do, or do not do. But that wasn't the case. Although, just recently, I've noticed I no longer boil at the thought of other people's change, it isn't because I respect that their decisions are their own. Its just that I no longer give a crap.

Is this what being an adult feels like?

The road to Hell

I spend a pretty decent amount of time at work being belittled by the general public, I really don't know why it still bothers me so much. I mean, I do the job of a seventeen year old high school student, but do people have to rub it in all the time? Isn't that in itself enough? Of course not.
Recently, a woman came in for an appointment, and she was blatantly ignoring everything I was saying to her. She hardly spoke to me while I was trying to do her pre-testing. I asked her to have a seat, and she just stood there, waiting for the doctor. But the doctor was going to be a few minutes, so I insisted she have a seat, and she wouldn't. People think that just because I work in retail, I'm a second class citizen. Or because they've got a PhD in some obscure subject they can treat me like crap or pretend I'm invisible. F them. After she was finished with her exam, I was asked to help her with her glasses, and, wouldn't you know it, she's a deaf lady.

So, I'm really making strides in purchasing my reserved seat in Hell.

I hate that girl.

With the amount of "little parts of me" that have died since I've graduated college, I'm surprised there is still anything left to kill.

Short Mess

I try to get as much accomplished on my days off as I can.
Today, I wanted to fix the new pair of jeans I bought. They're a 'regular' length, and I am not a regular lengthed person, but I figured it would be no big deal to hem them. Then I found out we were out of staples, so that ruined that plan. At first, I was frustrated that Mike used the staples toward his PhD endeavors when I had planned on using them on my pant legs, but then I remembered that I was probably the last person to use the stapler when the hem fell out of my work pants last week, so I wont mention it.
I would just wear heels, but that never looks normal on me. Long jeans with heels make me look like a midget on stilts. But that might not be such a bad thing. People love midgets.

Other day-off goals? Clean the freezer. Take down the Christmas lights. Do my laundry. Make dinner. Other totally normal adult things.