Overheard in the breakroom

Overheard in the breakroom:

Me: -with head in fridge- Where's the brownies?
J: Oh, I took them home.
Me: -looks up- What? Why?!
J: Well, I didn't want to leave my Pyrex dish.
Me: I was just going to eat the brownies. I wasn't going to eat the Pyrex!
J: I'm sorry!

Don't come between me and some good brownies, yo.

Twinkle toes returns

I've always been interested in ballet.
It's graceful.
It's beautiful.
It's elegant.

However, I'm built less like a swan princess,

and more like a belly dancer.

I see belly dancing in my near future.

Do I spy a David Tennant?

The Fright Night remake looks quite promising.
And I'm not just saying that because I think Colin Farrell is a hunkbox.
'Cause there's also vampires. And vampires usually equal strong, sexy, deadly types.
So, we have a strong and deadly hunkbox. Not quite enough to make me watch something...
Oh... is that a David Tennant I see?

Vampires, hunkboxes and David Tennant?
Yeah, I'll definitely be watching this.

How I try to not be naked at work

No matter where I am, I need a bit of paper and pen/pencil. I feel a bit naked without them.

Especially since my head likes to forget things: what I was supposed to be doing at that moment, people's names, basic etiquette...

 

So, I try and carry a notebook everywhere... including work.

I should say especially at work; that place is a plethora of ridiculous things. Which I have recorded for my enjoyment or just to get some rants off my chest.

Here's one from April, written the day after my most recent stomach episode:

To make us feel more responsible for the branch's success, my manager asked each of us what we did the day before to help the branch.

My answer: I stayed home so that I wouldn't projectile vomit on customers, thus getting us a low customer service score.

My manager paused, nodded and said: You have a point there.