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It�s been a busy day. I finally went to get something to eat about an hour ago. When I came back to my desk, I found an envelope in my chair with a name on the front, not mine. Inside was a letter addressed �To whom it may concern,� stating that the employee whose name is on the front of the letter needs to cut down her work hours to 32 per week for the remainder of her pregnancy.
Problem is, the employee this letter is for doesn�t work in my department. I have no idea who she is. She�s not in the phone directory, either. I have no idea what to do with the letter.
I don�t think that I would just leave something like that on some random person�s chair. This only serves to compound my belief that people are stupid.
Not you, my readers. You�re wonderful. It�s those other folks out there.
So�Anyway�
Niki, if you�re reading this, your email meant so much. Thank you. Your kids are lucky to have a mom like you.
I�ve come to the conclusion that I shouldn�t talk to the Boyfriend on the phone. He called me last night at 8:57. I was watching the very end of 7th Heaven. I asked him to hold on for a second. He got annoyed.
We talked for a minute, caught up on each other�s days. Then�silence. I started watching the beginning of Roswell. He started talking again. I missed the beginning of what he said because I was paying attention to the TV. He repeated his comment. I answered him. Silence.
Neither of us really had anything to say, but he feels incomplete if he doesn�t talk to me for at least 15 minutes. I don�t understand that.
�Hello, hope you�re doing well, I love you!� That would have been fine.
If he�d had something to tell me, I would have listened.
But why call when you have nothing to say? Just so you can check talking to me off the list of things to do? That makes no sense to me.
Today, he called and left a message on my voicemail. I didn�t call him back for a couple hours. I�d been busy. Finally, I stole a minute and dialed his number.
Him: �I just called to see what you�re doing.�
Me: �I�m running around like a maniac, trying to get my work done.�
Him: �Oh.�
Silence.
Why why why why why why why why why why WHY?! I don�t get it.
Don�t misunderstand. It�s not just him who does that, and it�s not just him I get annoyed at. Chris used to call our house like that all the time before he moved in to the apartment. It got to the point where he�d either call to moan about his life or call with nothing to say, so we�d argue about answering the phone when he called. �You get it.� �No, you.� �No, I got it last time. It�s you�re turn.� �I�ll give you a dollar!� �Not worth it.� �Ten?� �Well�Nope. Still not worth it.�
Caller ID is my favorite self-indulgence.
Off to Carla�s tonight for a Longaberger party. �Cause I need some more baskets. I always need more baskets. Oh, and I get to visit, too. These are good things.
It will be the Nanamobile�s first ride out of my neighborhood. I got my resident parking sticker yesterday. When I put it on, I also put on one of the secret stash of �Another Friend of Glen� bumper stickers. Now the car feels like it�s mine.
Ugh! I need to go mail a whole slew of check requests. What a good time!
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