I’ve wandered into Bad Blogger territory and I hate it, especially because the only reason for my absence is painfully long and extremely harried workdays. Office life is for the birds and if any of you disagree, please tell me what you do for a living and how I can get that job.
I’ve also wandered into bad Housegirlfriend territory. Last night the Boo informed me he didn’t have any clean white undershirts which really says something because homie has about a hundred. It’s been that long since I touched the laundry. It’s okay if you’re judging me for doing his laundry, or judging him for complaining about me not doing his laundry, but it helps me sleep at night to know I’m contributing something of value to our household.
Speaking of which, the Boo called me in the middle of the workday to tell me he’d refinanced the mortgage on “our” house (ha!). He started talking numbers and percentages and eventually I was like, “oh, shit – I have a meeting right now! Gotta go!” because I had no clue what he was talking about and the more I listened, the more I felt like I was supposed to understand what he was talking about, and that frightened me a little. Is it even legal to be engaged if you don’t know how a mortgage works?
Anywho, I wish I had something exciting to report but too many long hours spent in my windowless office wearing depressing, hideous suits haven’t done much for my creativity.
Here’s some food for thought, though: my girlfriend went to the opening of MXDC (the new Todd English restaurant in DC) last night and reported that that they were serving delicious mini tacos. Do you want to know what’s really delicious? A normal sized taco. Is it just me or is the whole mini food thing really annoying? I’m not a Smurf; I don’t want to eat fifteen mini tacos or mini Dove ice cream bars or mini lobster rolls – I just want to eat one (or two) as big as my head. Supersize me, damn it!
Which leads me to my final anecdote. I’ve started training for the Marine Corps Marathon, which I have no intention of actually participating in, but hey, I’ve gotta do something for exercise, right? Plus, the training program is free and it’s organized by a bunch of Marines who work on Capitol Hill. We meet at 6:30 am and I huff and puff my way through each agonizing mile, but it means I get to spend the first 45 minutes of my day running around with shirtless Marines. Kind of hard to complain about that, right?