Forget the "To Do" List... Where's My "I Want" List?

          I never thought I could be as excited about office supplies as I am now that I have my own office. Today, I walked into the executive administrator, Marsha's, office wondering loudly where I could find a pair of scissors.  After a brief conversation about how we had the same taste in watches, I walked out with a large grocery bag’s worth of supplies, including manila folders, highlighters, a stapler, folder racks, tape, toner and a slew of other things I didn’t even know I needed, but at that moment decided I couldn’t live without.

      Did I impulse shop in the supply closet?  Was I convinced of my needs by a smooth talking cougar of a secretary?  I have no idea.  I do know, however, that if anyone takes my staple remover, I will fashion a poorly constructed shiv out of paper clips and kill you.

Driving Miss Distracted

Driving home from work has made me oddly nostalgic for high school for a few reasons...

On my way home from work everyday I drive by the Edina Pool and think about all the shenanigans those lucky teenage lifeguards are getting into, and how working there was really one of the best jobs I will ever have.  Amongst the things I will miss most are the following:

a.     Throwing clothing detergent in the kiddy pool.

b.     The yearend party that puts the $ in $hit $how.

I remember it like this...

(Though it may have been more like this...)

c.      Days when the heat index required the lifeguards to take a “safety break”… (In actuality, this was time to swim in the pool in front of the irked children waiting to be allowed back into the water and mentally thumb our noses at them).

d.     Naked sliding.   No questions, please. 

e.     And finally…though I spent much of my time bitching about working “doubles”, badmouthing terrible parents, and loathing having to enter the pool to fish out fecal matter, it was still far better than working 60 hour weeks in heels and a suit (not a swimsuit), being polite to people who think they know what a medium steak looks like, and dealing with drunk airline staff throwing up in the bathroom.

 Ramp Meters

       In 2000, the State of Minnesota enacted the Minneapolis-Saint Paul ramp meter experiment, which turned off 433 meters throughout the metro area.  This happened to be a few months after I had gotten my license, but not before I was not only regularly annoyed by ramp meters but also breaking laws in relation to them on a daily basis.  

       Now, for the first time in my life since high school, I drive during rush hour traffic at both times of the day and dearly miss Senator Dick Day for his traffic insight… and awesome name.

You can tell by his smile that he loves his name too.

I Have to Get Up at What Time?

            My alarm clock is now set to have me rising early in the AM, just like at good ‘ole Visitation.  This does not make me miss high school, but does make me miss having the metabolism to process Twix, a bag of Dorritos and a can of Coke from the first floor vending machine for breakfast.  

      On the plus side, this wake up time does coincide nicely with the time my increasingly aging body tells me to get up so I can pee, and then check my email.  Luckily, my “Closer to 30 than 20” body doesn’t realize that this is a permanent change yet, and thus hasn’t retaliated with inevitable dark circles under my eyes or a lack of interest in outfit choices for the day…

First Day Misstep? Mission Accomplished!

      Having flowers on the first day of work delivered to your office surprisingly makes you the most popular girl in the office until the following happens:

1.   You ask who to thank at the hotel for sending you a welcome gift, and promptly realize that your assumption was not only a little presumptuous, since that apparently isn’t a common practice, but now you potentially have alluded to a scenario in which you received said job/flowers by sleeping with their boss.

2.     When you reveal that it isn’t from a husband or fiancé, nor from your boyfriend, but your loving father.  It's not that your dad sending you flowers makes you less cool, it's just not as fun to gossip about especially when...

3.      The conversation immediately turns to your love life.  You explain you aren’t married or engaged, or even planning a wedding like the girl who receives incoming packages (including your flowers), has an iceberg on her ring finger, pictures plastered of her hubby all over her cubicle, and clearly can’t wait for her wedding on July 17^th at this one Burnsville church and… wait, what were we talking about?  Oh yeah, the flowers your dad jokingly sent from the family dogs.

      By the way, you’re blocking the fluorescent light from my cubicle that shines on my boyfriend and I making out at a Milwaukie Brewery.