FUN!
NOT!
If you know me at all, it should come as no surprise that I did not attend this feste fest. Social activities at work are horribly painful things, and unless there’s wine or an open bar involved they do not get much better as time goes on. Seriously – how much do I really want to know about the people with whom I work that I don’t already know and feel comfortable talking about? It’s not like I’m going to engage the Pharter in a political discussion (having seen his list of bookmarked web pages, this is now a 100% Sure Thing) or ask AmpHead how her widdle puppins is, because, to be quite frank about it, I do not care all that much. Is this so wrong? Should I be more involved? Is it customary to want to know all the deets about some random coworker’s mom’s knee surgery and perhaps show interest in another person’s latest Sudoku successes? Ought we to be slavishly following the ins and outs of our cube-mates’ children’s soccer teams or coordinating our schedules to accommodate a daily hashing-out of sibling rivalries that someone needs to vent from her system before the next family gathering so that we're seen as 'team players'?
If its true, that would suck. Might make a nice excuse for why my career ladder only has like, 2 rungs, but even so I don’t know I’d climb and faster or farther if eating pastries with the people who have the effrontery to breathe my air at the office was the key to sure success, such is my total aversion.
So, I ignore the invitations to chomp on down with a dozen or so folks I recognize but don’t speak to, so I can sit in my corner cube and wait for the platter of leftovers to be put out by the coffee machine, whereupon I POUNCE on a delectable item and wolf it down on the way back to my corner, safe in the knowledge that no awkward moments were had in the eating thereof – eg, nobody watched me navigate a quarter-cup of neon yellow icing into my maw, and nobody was subjected to the quasi-sensual licking of fingers that occurred after the last sinful crumb had been lapped up. I’m all about making my coworkers comfortable, it would appear. Thoughtful!
--
After spending the last cuple too-tree years growing out my hair because someone to whom I am married likes long hair (and I really have no opinion on the matter, so, whatever makes him happy), I am proud to announce that the longest of it is at lower bra-strap length when it's dry and ALMOST to the small of my back when it’s wet. The curliness sproings up almost 4 inches of length! The whole long-hair thing is 90% enjoyable, except that nowadays I have to do things like ‘flip it out of the way when closing the car window’ and ‘bunch it in one hand when laying down to sleep so it doesn’t get pinned under a shoulder,’ which are, admittedly, low-key maintenance items that just take practice and muscle memory to get down pat in order to move toward 100% enjoyment.
There’s a part of me that wishes I had perfectly straight hair so that there could be a cascade of glossy hair spilling over my shoulders that would reflect sunlight like a mirror when I shook my head, but then that would mean that the bouncyness and body would have to go as well, which are two things I like about the hair, so oh well. It’s enough that it’s serious hair now – and probably nearing on an ‘identity’ hairstyle thing. You know what I mean – the Hair That Wears You? Yep – it’s probably only a year or so away.
I’ll just be the little old lady with All That Hair at the nursing home in 30 years, I’m sure. And that would be sweet, because I’m sure by that point I’ll be doing things like "forgetting to put on a robe before showering’ in which case having Lady Godiva hair would come in plenty handy. Also might help if we need to beat a hasty middle-of-the-night retreat out the window for whatever reason. “Hairbraid of Freedom!”--
Anyhow. That’s about it from this corner of the universe. Just one last thing you need to know – if you lived on Venus, you’d be dead by now.
Have a nice day!
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