Yesterday was my five-year anniversary at work. It was just exactly the same as five years ago in that it was May 2nd and it was a Monday. Also, Osama bin Laden is still dead. He'd been killed the night before my first day. One of you told me in the comments and I barely registered it because nervous.
Here I am on my first day, and why didn't anyone tell me that necklace and sweater were too much together? I still have that sweater. I should totally wear it today in celebration. Today, I celebrate my love for me. For a change. We don't have to dress up for work anymore, which is nice. Why was my hair like that? God.
So many people who are there now weren't there way back then. None of the Alexes were. But my boss was, fmr., and Griff of course. Oh, I forgot to tell you a story. Last week when I got back from lunch one day, there was a bag of Goldfish on my desk. Not real ones, but Princess Goldfish crackers, which did you even know they CAME in princess form? I didn't, either.
"Hunh. I wonder who left these here," I thought, while also thinking who names a website "million moments." Naturally I tore them right open and commenced chawing, because diet.
"What're you eating?" asked Griff, moments later.
"Someone left pink goldfish on my desk," I told him, not remotely fearing that maybe Osama bin Laden left them there or something and that they were teaming with poison. "Do they have crowns?" he asked, looking at the package.
"They don't! I was kind of hoping they would."
It was a really busy week and I never took time to sleuth, figuring someone would eventually say, hey, did you get those princess crackers or "I am Osama bin Laden! Death to June!" or something. Do you think he talked like that all the time? Or was he ever just all, Do we have any mustard?
On Friday, a bunch of people were around my desk, and why? Why do people bug me? Do I seem sociable? Because I don't see it.
"Hey, what're those?"
"Oh, some mysterious person left me princess Goldfish," I said. "Probably The Poet, but I never found out."
"I got those for you," said Griff.
"You did?" everyone asked.
"Yeah." He took more crackers, a thing he'd been doing all week without saying a word.
The thing is, when you're cantankerous, a small gesture like seeing pink goldfish crackers and getting them for your pink coworker seems astonishingly kind. That is the advantage of being a cranker-britches.
"You know those aren't real fish, right, Griff?" someone asked. He does love him some fish, as we all know.
Yesterday was the first day of Fitness by the Fountain, which I like to call Fitness Whole Pizza in My Mouth, and I was excited to go as it was belly dancing last night, but BRF Alex said, "It's supposed to storm," and what 27-year-old or however the fuck old she is knows what the weather's gonna be. Who is she, my grandmother? Sure enough, hail, hail, the gang was all here, so Edsel the Puppy Killer and I didn't get to go for our walk, and I didn't get to stroll down and check on Ava or anything. I mean, it was lightning-ning and thundering and hailing and it was absurd.
Cool weather, though. I love love love love spring here, with the blossoms and the storms and the katydids and next will be the lightning bugs. Oh! Love. People have 72 orgasms over the autumn here, which I will grant you is loverly, and yes I just said loverly like one of those assholes who enjoys a musical (hi, Enormous Member Steve), but the spring is where it's at, for me.
Five years later. Man, do I miss those park-your-horse-here porch lights.
Death to June,