Why my job shouldn't have book fairs

I'm hopeless addicted to buying books and and sorts of garbage that comes along with a book fair. I'm not usually allowed in bookstores even. I acquire more books than I can possible read. The kindle has proven to be a big problem for me, actually.

Anyway. So, the book fair. It happens every year. I never remember until I am walking into work and I see the sign. "Book Fair at the Cottage Cafe. Cash. Check. Charge! Books are fun!"

I try to ignore it. In the back of my little mind something nags me throughout the morning. Like a whisper. "Book fair." As the day goes on, the feeling grows. "Boooooks are FUN." I look at my computer for the time. If I can just make it until two, the fair will be closed. 12:00 rolls around. I'm eating lunch. My mind starts wandering as I have no documents to focus on. "Books? Books! Boooooooks!" I finish my lunch and stare at my computer for a second. Then, Bam! My little brain completely goes bizonkers. "Books. Books. Books. BoooOOOOOooooOOOOOooooOOOOOks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  I jump up, grab my purse and dash downstairs.

I step into the room and, while quieted down a bit, the back of my brain is quietly chanting, "books. books. books. get some books. books books books. get some books." A whirlwind 20 minutes or so later, and I've laden myself with more items than I really have money for and definitely more than I have time for.

Crap. Oh well.

Also, apparently I should not have access to my blog while at work. I'm on a break...

My boyfriend offers to write my self evaluation for me:

I was on chat with my boyfriend today. I was complaining about having to write a self evaluation. I hate writing them. the following chat occurs:

 me:  45 more minutes. at least I am pretty much done with that report. I will quickly review it tomorrow and then ask for a peer edit. then a memo to review. two meetings and hopefully by thursday I will have time to write my self evaluation

 him:  I should write your evaluation for you.

"Mary is very mean."

 me:  all this because I won't let you stop living? [in reference to an earlier conversation in which he complained about having to, well, live]

 him:  yep

 me:  whatevs

 silly:  "Mary also tends to use strange shortened versions of words, which is not desirable in an editor"

 Sent at 2:51 PM on Tuesday

 me:  lmao

okay that made me laugh out loud. stop it

 him:  "Mary often laughs out loud in the office for no apparent reason. This is disruptive to other employees."

 me:  gah! stop it!

him: 

glad I can entertain you.

 me:  you are silly!

Girls...why with the backstabbing?

Most women are awful. I sometimes get ready for work at the gym in the morning after a workout. Today was something special. I spent 20 minutes listening the a back and forth between two vapid bitches.

There was a back and forth from everything to hating on girls that were supposedly their friends to what is considered an acceptable date or what a guy should spend. The most annoying was a girl hating on the bride in a wedding for which she was a bridesmaid. The comments were mean at best.

Now I remember why I have very few female friends. Those I am friends with have been around for a very long time, or there was some kind of spark between us. The problem is, I then end up having mostly guys as friends, which works, because they are easy. Well, that is what they would like you to think. In the last few months I have learned guys can be almost as bad. The only difference is that they will tell you shit to your face, which works for me.

The other sad thing is that even though I love my boys, they will never really understand you the way your best girl could. My therapist even told me that I need more women in my life. Which, is sort of funny considering my ex thinks I am a lesbian.

yea, that was a total ramble. Long story long, most women are terrible. The problem is that we need each other, so for those so very few of you who are my friends, I am eternally grateful. And to my boys, I love you, too, but in a different way. The beers and video games sort of way.

Anyway, if your bachelorette party is at Joe's Crab Shack this weekend, reconsider your bridal party.

You are only as old as your hobbies

I am an old lady at heart. well, that is partly true, anyway. When I am not being a 5-year old, I am an old lady at heart. I like my gin and punk teens bother me. I like my theatre, too. But what is really driving this thought is my love of old-lady crafts and hobbies.

I hauled my boyfriend to the store the other day to gather scrapbook supplies. Yes, there it is. I just spent way too much money on scrapbook supplies. He just laughed at me. The lady at the check out pointed out to him that if he didn't stop laughing at me, he might come home to a pink bathroom with little daisy's everywhere. Susan,I didn't know you yesterday, but right now, I love you. Oh the evil. mwahahahahahaha. Of course, after his comment about my sticker purchases, he just might wake up with stickers all over his face.

In addition to the fact that I am so looking forward to drinking a gin martini and scrapbooking on the floor while my kitties play with paper scraps, I am going to be treated to a knitting lesson from my girlfriend. I can't freaking wait.

I really like this stuff: memory keeping, creating things for my home, decorating, baking. I am not amazing at all of them, but I like them. I love my home and my life and these sorts of activities make me appreciate it all the more. Not really sure why.