Sheesh. In all the years I have worked at this university, I choose the 37 degree, blustery, snowy late April today to forget my ID and have to wait on public safety to come let me into my building and office. I have too much on this plate right now.
I dreamt I was talking to these two women who kept calling Indiana, Indian Anna. Indian Anna. Indiana will forever be Indian Anna to me now.
Yep. All of this.
Aw! This made me get a little teary.
“Irregular Warfare” would be a good book title. Or band name.
Ha! “Make up your mind bowl!” Anthropologie is ridiculous. Straight up.
“I shot for the moon and my arrow went straight down to hell. But at least I tried!”
I think the internet is tired of me. I’m tired of me.
Nice piece from Reason on Sabo.
I dunno, Miss W. I think I’ve reached that stage of parenting where I just don’t get your music.
Wait. What? I didn’t leave it at home. It’s sitting here on my damn desk. Such a dumb ass. Plate. Overfloweth.
Wow. I do not even know how to respond to this nonsense.
I thought that said “organic casino.”
I wake up in the morning and think “I’m going to be positive about this day and not complain and just be me minus complaining and smile and be polite and just push through this day.” And the universe laughs and laughs and laughs and sucker punches me and then kicks me in the teeth. And I think “How is it any wonder that I am not a positive person? Look. Look at all. This. Shit.”
Office phrases that need to be summarily executed:
redacted in case of Google
I don’t even know. It was there when I woke up.
I’ll take Tawny Kitean’s hair though. Although really, I’d prefer Mary Louise Parker’s hair. If I have a choice.
OFFS. Now. I will tell you that my life would be exponentially easier if I were an extrovert. That is a simple fact. But I don’t go around whining about it. I deal with it. I put my fake “greeting the public” smile on my face. I add ridiculous exclamation points to professional emails that should never ever need exclamation points to over compensate because otherwise I’m accused of being curt. But social privilege? Get out of my introvert club, ya jackasses.
Also? Most of the things on that list are total BS. I mean TOTAL. Take your victimhood drama elsewhere, bitches.
Have I not given you that advice? he asked. Of course you have, of course.
People just make me tired and sad. That wouldn’t happen if I weren’t a closet optimist.
I’m totally OK living a life of tea stained counter tops and hand me downs.
Yeah, I’ve been conflicted about Rand periodically. But. I’m still thinking he’s the way to go. Now I just need a t shirt … Someone tell him to send me one, I’ll be his rep on this ridiculous campus.
Well that wasn’t helpful at all.
I know I’m forgetting something. I know it. Like everything about the budget process, but not that.
Yep. If I yell at you about your trigger finger, don’t take it personally. Just listen.
Don’t look up to me, I’m drowning.
I feel ya, Stormageddon.
Stupid useless Canadian quarter!
“We would call ourselves the Resistance.”
Um. Yeah. Calling myself was not at all what I meant to do.
I am tempted but no. I think I’m going to need to do absolutely nothing at all that day.
I really should not have eaten that cookie.
Now I need a therapy cupcake.
Terrycloth and terry cloth are both correct.
Ugh. I hate telling the students I’m not hiring that I’m not hiring them. It makes me sad.
My People Who Need Shawls Knitted For Them list is growing.
Shut up, stomach. You’re not hungry.
But for now, I have to unknit this row. Woe.