When your 8 x 10 American flag bumper sticker/magnet has become a square of baby blue with big old field of white around it, you’ve blown right past declaring your patriotism and skidded smack into declaring your ignorance.
Roofing crews should officially be renamed: A group of Mexican laborers who can haul major ass and the white guy who speaks 15 words of Spanish sitting in his truck watching them. Seriously, the most recent one started across the street this morning sometime after 8 a.m. They most likely will be finished before I complete this post.
My grocery is c.o.n.s.t.a.n.t.l.y out of my chocolate soy milk. You’d think they’d wise up and dedicate more space to it so they could order more. The stuff has a tremendously longer shelf-life than that of regular milk, for pete’s sake, and they charge both arms for it. Someone failed Econ 101 here.
My child talks to my mother waaaaay too much, so much, in fact, that her grandma hyper-radar is starting to replace her common sense.
My dog’s hot laps around the house are totally worth the wear and tear on the carpet.
I’ve recently become an activist in my chosen field, but it wasn’t because I really wanted to. Nothing motivates me like stupid people. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
We’ve recently been counseling a friend who is in major like with someone. It doesn’t matter how old or experienced we are or aren’t, when we are in that newness of major like, we are all reduced to middle schoolers who would just really like to be able to pass a note with boxes on it that says, “Do you LIKE me? Check one.”
I LOVE FALL and couldn’t be happier that it is here.
We watched Home Alone with Boy the other night. I know, I know, but I’ll still admit it: That movie still makes me laugh like hell. The Boy, of course, loves it.
I really wish I could get my dog to understand that laying on the floor next to my wheeled office chair is a BAD IDEA. (No puppies were injured with this observation; I just can’t move!)
I sent a mail to all staff on my mailing list recently, some of whom don’t work directly for me, letting them know that federal law had changed and how we would be adjusting one of our policies because of it. I should have known, but no, I was still in awe when I opened my inbox and saw the, “Does this apply to my work?” My immediate thought was, “No, when they wrote that law in Congress, they made a special exception for that client because they knew your silly ass was working it. Carry on.” I can only hope Zell is proud of me.