Friday, August 18, 2017

How the "never again!!" conversations go

Brain: Get up. She'll be here any minute.

Body: But it feels so good to lie here on the floor.

Brain: You should probably login too and be productive before she gets here.

Body: But the floor... maybe I could just sneak in a nap.

Brain: Also you were going to clean.

Body: But the floor...

Brain: You should at least text her to tell her you're home.

Body: But I live here now, on the floor. It's glorious. I'm never getting up. 

Brain: FINE!! We are NEVER inviting anyone over after work again.

Body: Yay!!

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

But how DO you tell someone you have herpes? (a lesson in NOT clicking links)

So, someone wrote into an advice column that they discovered they had herpes and wondered what to do now that they were dating. They wanted permission not to tell anyone because, after all, they were only having casual sex, so why bother letting anyone know? (Yes, that is absolutely horrid, but I've ceased being surprised by terrible people ever since this last election.)

Well, I got sucked into the article and the comments and someone replied with a link to an article called "HOW TO TELL SOMEONE YOU HAVE HERPES." I thought, huh, that sounds interesting, how DO you tell someone you have herpes?

So I clicked on it, read the article and went back to work.

Later I realized FUCK. That was on my WORK. COMPUTER.  Now the entire IT Department will think I have herpes. Great.

I'll bring in brownies and they'll be all "oh, don't touch those, that girl with the open sores made them."


My only defense is weak. When I am ACTUALLY researching a disease I think I have, I SCOUR the fucking internet for hours. Not one click. But imagine trying to explain that!

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Overheard negotiation tactics

"My rate for handling your dysfunctional relative would be overtime plus one bottle of vodka an hour. If we're bringing in MY dysfunctional relative on top of that, the rate would be 2 bottles of vodka an hour, plus ER costs."

Sunday, August 6, 2017

When you're feeling antisocial at a social event...

So, I'm awkwardly standing on the food line at a birthday party, wishing I was anywhere else (it's been a rough week) and not knowing anyone except the guy I dragged with me when a man walked up, cut in front of me and then motioned with his chin. "Mimi's over there."

"Um, excuse me?"

"She's over there."

I didn't recognize this man in the slightest, but he seemed to feel this was very important information.

I was half-tempted to nod and say, "oh thanks" just to make the interaction stop but then I realized this might lead to a conversation with "Mimi" which would interfere with the escape plans I was hatching.

"I'm so sorry, but I don't recognize you," I finally sputtered, annoyed that I was being forced into a conversation against my will. Goddammit, why can't I be antisocial at a social event? The universe always conspires against me.

"Oh," he said, shrugging. He offered no further explanation.

An awkward silence hung between us for a beat.

I broke. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to be somewhat cordial.

"I'm Tim," he said.

There was no indication that I should have known this, so I suddenly became curious. Why did Tim announce Mimi's whereabouts? The mission had turned from avoiding meeting "Mimi" to finding out if they somehow knew me and I had just forgotten. I mean, people can be very forgettable sometimes so it could have happened.

"Did you recognize me?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head.

WHYYYY did he approach me? Why did he think I would know (or care) about Mimi? So many questions! But I was grateful the interaction had finally died its slow, awkward death so I said nothing, and got myself a plate.