Friday, August 18, 2017
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
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
"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."
Thursday, August 10, 2017
"We will make love together, with me and my penis directed towards the sun" is the exact moment when I broke.
This is from a Craigslist ad where someone is seeking a partner to consummate the eclipse with.
(Sent from my phone)
Sunday, August 6, 2017
"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.