Today after work I am going shopping for swimsuits. The only thing worse than swimsuit shopping is bra shopping and we all know how I feel about bra shopping. Ugh. I have to buy a new swimsuit because all of my old ones are too big. Which is good. But it means I have to spend money. Which is bad. In theory. Because I do enjoy spending money. And if I want to go swimming without one or both of my boobs flying out (and I really, really do), I'm going to have to spend some money.
Blah, blah, I'm bored. The office is closed for the next week and I will be here all alone. Which technically means I am in charge. And that is why I am wearing jeans and flip flops today. Do you guys call them flip flops or thongs? Sometimes I like to call them thongs because when I say, "have you guys seen my thongs?" or "these thongs hurt my feet," people give me weird looks and I just can never get enough of those. I got one from Heidi last night when I matter-of-factly stated that when I make a sandwich I have to cut it in unequal halves so I know which half to eat first (I have to eat the smaller one first). I pretty much got a blank stare for that, so I didn't continue on to say that when I'm eating chips or pretzels or something I have to eat all the broken ones first. But I do. I don't know why. It's still a step up from certain family members of mine who won't eat a sandwich unless the ingredients have been placed on in the correct order, DAD AND AUNT KAREN I'm looking at you. Hee.
ANYWAY, I'm pretty excited that I don't have to wear scrubs all week. Not that they're not comfortable (because OH they are), but the tops, I feel, give everyone that "so when are you due?" look. Especially if you have even the tiniest amount of boobs. No one has ever actually asked me if I'm pregnant, but I'd hate to think that they are silently judging me for having a child out of wedlock and bringing one more bastard into the world. Hahahahaha. Oh man. Just kidding. I don't care how many babies you have out of wedlock, I just like saying the phrase "out of wedlock." I love bastards!
Speaking of bastards, some representative for the Republican party called our office earlier to tell us we'd been selected for "blah, blah, fake award, donate money" but I didn't actually hear what the award was for because I hung up on them.
Last night, my roommate and I went for a walk because . . . well, it's good exercise and after we started quoting Grey's Anatomy ("Pick me! Choose me! Love me!" . . . yeah, I don't know either) to each other we thought it would be a good idea to get out of the apartment. On our way home we took a lap around Walden Pond (teehee!) and were almost attacked by a gaggle of geeses! It was scary. They hissed at us. Apparently it's nesting season or just after nesting season, because there was something in our apartment newsletter about the goose problem and how it will be over soon because they're going to start using the screamers. That's right. I said The Screamers. The newsletter actually made a special point to tell us not to be alarmed if we heard The Screamers. I'm not exactly sure what The Screamers are as I have not heard them yet. I keep picturing a group of people approaching a bunch of geese and just screaming until the geese look at each other all "wtf?" and then fly away. Also, by the way, I totally want that job.
And now . . . Conversations With My Roommate:
Heidi: Oh, I forgot to tell you this.
Me: Go on.
Heidi: The other day, I was talking to Nick and he was like, "I thought when girls lived together they were supposed to be on the same cycle?"
Heidi: And I was like, "what are you talking about?" and he must have used your bathroom at some point on Saturday because he said, "Well, let's just say that Jennie's Aunt Flo is in town."
Heidi: So I asked him how he knew and he was like, "Heidi, guys stand up to pee and her trashcan is next to the toilet."
Me: Oh . . . my.
Me: I have to say, I'm a little uncomfortable with how much your boyfriend knows about my uterus.