now that I’m single again
(Well – temporarily single. Meaning “not getting any” as opposed to “out looking.”)
Now that I’m single, I can finally get back to doing what women love to do best while alone in the shower. Now I can take a little time for myself and luxuriate in that sensuous sensation – indulge in that singular pleasure… I think y’all know what I’m talking about.
That’s right. Exfoliation.
My shower walls are splattered with apricot seeds. I feel good. I miss my boyfriend, but every cloud has a honey-almond-scented lining.
elevator jerks
Y’all heard me say, “Hold the elevator, please.” I saw y’all smirking, standing there with your arms crossed. And, yes, I know you heard me say, “Thanks a lot,” so very sarcastically. But that’s not enough. No, that’s not enough for me.
I’ll get you, you rude dogs. I’LL GET YOU.
Just FYI – the decent thing to do is to pretend you’re punching the Door Open button. Just push on the wall with your finger. That’s what I do. I fake it and say, “Sorry!” as I watch you through the closing doors. Y’all’s behavior, on the other hand, was just vile.
retro office supplies
I wish y’all could see the wicked awesome old-school box on the shelf behind me – the box that contains “Super Nu-Kote” correction papers and features a fabulous collage-looking representation of a typewriter. It has to be late ‘50s or early ‘60s.
The only thing that keeps me from stealing this box to display on my apartment wall is the fact that some artless person scribbled “pen + pencil” on it with a red pen. Curses – foiled again.
A few years ago, when I worked for a certain non-profit, we’d regularly get free defunct office supplies from local corporations. I took home a silvery spinning thing, the purpose of which I never knew.
Until now. My new (old) workplace has those things all over the place. We use them to hold rubber stamps.
Now I’m coveting a blotter. One of our coworkers from over the pond has an antique silver one he uses with his fountain pen. His assistant had a hard time finding blotter paper for it. He also has the first fountain pen his parents ever bought him, inscribed with his name.
If I ever steal anything from work… No, it won’t be that. That would be wrong. I know – I’d steal one of our Dictaphones, instead. No one I know has ever seen one.
