(Or Today’s Early Morning Thoughts)
I love the movie "Waitress" by Adrienne Shelley. There's just something about this film that resonates hope and humility.
Two weeks ago, I slid into someone else’s car and caused enough damage to take the front plate off her bumper. I told her that I would pay her today and I did because I’m a person of my word. I feel as though I did the right thing by paying her in full even though she came to me with an entirely new estimate that’s $150 more. And she got this estimate yesterday. Even though her and her hubs got four done on the day I hit her vehicle and I allowed her to choose which shop. I find it strange and a lot under-handed, but we’re moving forward. And truthfully, I would be here in a puddle of tears if Ethan hadn’t fronted me the dough.
I love my father. I really do. But as a very wise woman (CBS111) once told me, “When you were a kid, it was ok because kids are more accepting. But now you’re an adult with standards and he’s not meeting them”. (Or something along those lines). The point is that dealing with my father is a constant let down. For four years, I have tried to have “the talk”. If you grew up with both parents loving you completely and supporting you fully then you don’t know “the talk”. If you’re strong enough to live your life without needing other people’s acceptance (Bravo! [non-sarcastically] I really do aim to be more like you) then you definitely don’t know “the talk”. But I grew up with my father participating… intermittently. Say, every four to six years. And I resent him for it. I often feel abandoned when people walk away from me, even if it’s just for the night. I have a hard time separating – even temporarily – because I don’t honestly believe that I will see that person again.
I shouldn’t have had those Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs for breakfast. I know better. But I can’t eat anymore Easter M&Ms. I’ve had so many that I can taste the dye. Oh! That’s right. Forgot to tell you. I went on an Easter candy binge because it was ALL ON SALE! Bags and bags of candy for less than $2/each. Yes, please! However, I now have 5 (yes, f-i-v-e) unopened bags of candy still left. They will probably end up in some trail mix.
There are only 22 squares left to make until I can start to put together my mom’s blanket. I’m very excited about it and I know that she’ll love it. The hard part will be trying not to give it to her too soon.
If the VP walks through here one more time, I’m going to assume he’s stalking me and just me. He probably doesn’t even see the other two people in the row because I’m so fly.
My shoes today are fabulous. I don’t wear them enough. Probably because I no longer budget for pedicures. I should go back to that. I’m not a foot person. That’s why I hate doing my own feet. Don’t get me wrong, I do my own feet. I just don’t like it.
I drink waaaaaaaayyyy too much alcohol. I’m thinking I’m going to cut back… maybe… slightly… probably not.
The candle biz is going to the dogs. I just don’t have the energy or the desire anymore. Good thing I didn’t buy inventory.
I don’t want to live with Palmer. He’s a nagging, whiny vijay. This is why I couldn’t bring myself to date him. I will probably work two jobs just so we’re never around each other. I need to devise a plan for ATL like A-effing-SAP if I intend to make it my permanent home (which I don’t).
Which reminds me, I need to get serious about moving to Spain. I’ve been talking about it since I came back from my class trip Ten.Years.Ago. It’s time now, don’tcha think?
Good Gracious! I’ve wasted over an hour writing this post. No wonder I’m getting the stink eye from the VP who just walked through the other aisle but definitely saw me looking at him instead of working. Maybe I should’ve put my headset on so it would have been less conspicuous. Note to self: next time, put your headset on.
I love the movie "Waitress" by Adrienne Shelley. There's just something about this film that resonates hope and humility.
Two weeks ago, I slid into someone else’s car and caused enough damage to take the front plate off her bumper. I told her that I would pay her today and I did because I’m a person of my word. I feel as though I did the right thing by paying her in full even though she came to me with an entirely new estimate that’s $150 more. And she got this estimate yesterday. Even though her and her hubs got four done on the day I hit her vehicle and I allowed her to choose which shop. I find it strange and a lot under-handed, but we’re moving forward. And truthfully, I would be here in a puddle of tears if Ethan hadn’t fronted me the dough.
I love my father. I really do. But as a very wise woman (CBS111) once told me, “When you were a kid, it was ok because kids are more accepting. But now you’re an adult with standards and he’s not meeting them”. (Or something along those lines). The point is that dealing with my father is a constant let down. For four years, I have tried to have “the talk”. If you grew up with both parents loving you completely and supporting you fully then you don’t know “the talk”. If you’re strong enough to live your life without needing other people’s acceptance (Bravo! [non-sarcastically] I really do aim to be more like you) then you definitely don’t know “the talk”. But I grew up with my father participating… intermittently. Say, every four to six years. And I resent him for it. I often feel abandoned when people walk away from me, even if it’s just for the night. I have a hard time separating – even temporarily – because I don’t honestly believe that I will see that person again.
I shouldn’t have had those Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs for breakfast. I know better. But I can’t eat anymore Easter M&Ms. I’ve had so many that I can taste the dye. Oh! That’s right. Forgot to tell you. I went on an Easter candy binge because it was ALL ON SALE! Bags and bags of candy for less than $2/each. Yes, please! However, I now have 5 (yes, f-i-v-e) unopened bags of candy still left. They will probably end up in some trail mix.
There are only 22 squares left to make until I can start to put together my mom’s blanket. I’m very excited about it and I know that she’ll love it. The hard part will be trying not to give it to her too soon.
If the VP walks through here one more time, I’m going to assume he’s stalking me and just me. He probably doesn’t even see the other two people in the row because I’m so fly.
My shoes today are fabulous. I don’t wear them enough. Probably because I no longer budget for pedicures. I should go back to that. I’m not a foot person. That’s why I hate doing my own feet. Don’t get me wrong, I do my own feet. I just don’t like it.
I drink waaaaaaaayyyy too much alcohol. I’m thinking I’m going to cut back… maybe… slightly… probably not.
The candle biz is going to the dogs. I just don’t have the energy or the desire anymore. Good thing I didn’t buy inventory.
I don’t want to live with Palmer. He’s a nagging, whiny vijay. This is why I couldn’t bring myself to date him. I will probably work two jobs just so we’re never around each other. I need to devise a plan for ATL like A-effing-SAP if I intend to make it my permanent home (which I don’t).
Which reminds me, I need to get serious about moving to Spain. I’ve been talking about it since I came back from my class trip Ten.Years.Ago. It’s time now, don’tcha think?
Good Gracious! I’ve wasted over an hour writing this post. No wonder I’m getting the stink eye from the VP who just walked through the other aisle but definitely saw me looking at him instead of working. Maybe I should’ve put my headset on so it would have been less conspicuous. Note to self: next time, put your headset on.
