I love that all I have to do today at work is stick little labels onto
manilla folders.
I love that I am being paid five times as much as a McDonald's
cashiers (it is ok, because the cashiers at my McDonald's don't even
take your order. A call center in India does) to sit at work and
fashion the most efficient assembly line for the application of labels
ever.
I love that my ex bestest friend in the whole world refers to me as
the hot one to his friends.
I love that he sends me random text messages telling me he wants to
come over and cuddle.
And I love that I tell him that's not my style.
And I love that he says, I know, but it is mine. It makes me feel wanted.
And then I laugh at me for being a girl.
I love that my teachers assistant gave me an extension on my research
paper and I love that I was already done with my paper when I asked.
Nonsensical, I know.
I love that my mom calls me to remind me that my car is scheduled for
an oil change and I love how I have no idea how or why she knows this,
since I made the appointment. Then she tells me we can switch cars so
I am not inconvenienced. And then I tell her I don't want to drive a
station wagon, I would rather be inconvenienced. Then she yells at me
telling me that it is an all terrain, cross country vehicle, not a
station wagon.
I love that my dad and I have conversations about hemi's and Mustang
GT's and also politics, but nothing else.
I love that I am having an awesome hair day. And that I am wearing $300 shoes.
I love that there is a gianormous container of hot chocolate sitting
on my desk, leftover from a meeting and that I have had at least
thirty five cups of goodness since lunchtime.
I love that I drank so much coffee yesterday that I don't ever want
more, except for maybe tomorrow.
I love that it has been snowing for three days straight and I love
that my car has all of these fancy winter combatant accessories like
"Dynamic Stability Assistance" and "Winter Mode" and that it alerts me
when they are engaged.
I love that my favorite music is from the 1990's.
1 comment:
My car has what is known as a "Traction Control System".
I know what you mean about work and corporate culture though. I swear I spent 4 hours today looking for some paperwork that was backup to a check for $23.00 that we needed to send out. That's right 4 hours looking for information regarding a $23.00 check. Not the best use of my vast knowledge, but whatever.
Post a Comment