Who is the DELIGHTFUL individual who sent me these? They're Jo Malone fragrances, and they come in really excellent scents. Last night I sprayed on Nectarine Blossom and Honey, then later because I'm obsessed I sprayed on Blackberry and Bay.
I used to live on Bay and Cooper. It didn't smell nearly as good.
Now this morning I put on red roses, and I smell like I'm about to be delivered to your doorstep. Please say yes. Love, Jonathan.
That was only funny if you've memorized When Harry Met Sally, and why not?
Anyway, now I have something to live for, and also Jo Malone invites you to LAYER her fragrances, so after I've tried them all individually, then I can get into LAYERING and oh my god.
This is the kind of shit that can keep me amused for weeks.
I'm sorry to report that Lottie is going through an awkward stage, where her ears don't know what the hell they're doing and she's sort of all snout at the moment. At least she's charming and not at all annoying. Oh, wait.
Oh! Speaking of dogs, my next-open-workspace-area neighbor sent me a photo of her dog that you helped get out the pokey.
...Aaaaand I can't open it. Goddammit. It keeps saying it doesn't recognize the file or something. Well, of COURSE you don't recognize it; you've never MET it before.
The best I could do was take a screen shot of them. Goddammit. I hate everything. Anyway, here he is.
I'll just have to keep asking for photos.
Yesterday at work, we had a fire drill, and my coworker Griff got the email that read "Fire drill" and he was all mad that it was going to be some pressing, all-hands-available-all-night thing, and then he was so relieved when he clicked and it was just about a literal fire.
Anyway, they told us we were having a fire drill, which isn't very realistic, because in the event of an actual fire you are probably going to be surprised. More surprised than happy.
The point of my telling you this is they assigned me as group leader.
"I just want you all to know that should a real fire occur, I will step on all of your HEADS to get to safety," I announced, standing up and addressing the crowd like I was Norma Rae.
If I were her coworker, I'd hold up a sign that read SUPPORT UNDERGARMENTS and perhaps DEODORANT.
Anyway, my crowd ignored me, as they always do. Right before the fire drill was to happen, I popped into Wedding Alex's office, as she always has chocolate. "I thought I'd make s'mores when the fire gets here," I said, changing my status on Facebook to In a Relationship with June Gardens.
"Have you gone down your list to see if everyone's here today?" she asked. Wedding Alex is one of those organized people I don't understand.
"...List?" I asked, around a mouthful of chocolate. I didn't have TIME for a fire to melt it. Busy executive.
She looked incredulous. She often looks incredulous when I am speaking near her. "June, there's a whole list of people you're responsible for. Have you looked at the map to see where you're supposed to exit to once the alarm goes off?"
I plucked another dark chocolate out her dish. I was going to need strength. Incredible inner strength.
I mean, she didn't even HAVE to look at that email. And yet she'd looked at it and opened the Excel doc in it and actually absorbed what it had to say. Why do they MAKE people like that? What's the point?
I looked at the "map" and it had, like, this blue blob where I was to dutifully lead my people to safety. "Does this, like, blue blob mean we gather at the loading dock?" I asked someone.
"No, June, that's the complete opposite of where we're supposed to go," she said, and why do people pretend they know how to read maps? No one does. They're just a ruse.
So then I got into it. I printed out (!!!) the document, combed the office--not literally--for everyone on my list and told everyone how we'd proceed out the door.
"I love how now it's a thing for you and 10 minutes ago you didn't even know there WAS a list," said smug, annoying Alex, whose chocolate I will still eat despite her poor attitude.
At that point, I was wishing there was time for us to have team t-shirts, but right then the alarm went off, and right then I knew. It was time for the fire drill.
"AAAACKKKKK!!!!" I screeched, flapping my hands in panic. "I just wanted it to be realistic, cause that's what I'd really do," I said, gathering my group. Who I'm sure felt assured they were in good hands.
Look. I got all those motherfuckers out the door and to our spot, which also turned out to be wrong, which I learned once the OTHER groups were all, Why are you guys over there? So we clumped on over to everyone else, and said thank god it's at least a nice day, and that is when, fueled by sweets, I got the inspiration to photograph everyone's shoes.
Last night was incredibly productive, in that I got home, put on a robe, and watched Real Housewives of New York till 10 p.m., when it was time for Watch What Happens Live and I watched that. I know it's an inspiration, the way I Do It All, but not everyone can be me.
I'm available for fire drills, in case anyone wants to hire me for their office affair. Speak with my assistant, Wedding Alex.