Morning.
Do I sound intimidating? I've been watching a lot of Undercover Boss, and thank god my weekends mean a lot lately. Undercover Boss is where a CEO or president or whatever hoo-hah of a major company (7-Eleven, 1-800-Flowers, Waste Management, the Chicago Cubs) (not that I watched 109 of these this weekend or anything) pretends to be looking for entry-level work at the age of 60, as you do, and then he's down with the people for awhile and sees what really goes on with his company.
Or hers. Every 10th show, an actual woman is in charge, usually because she started the damn company her own self. Like that jewelry company everyone is a part of on Facebook. Stanford and Dash or whatever.
Oh, it's fascinating. And I noticed once they're the hoo-hah again--and they call these poor unsuspecting workers in to (a) give them diarrhea and (2) to say, That whole time you were in a hairnet is going to be on TV for everyone to see--once they're CEOs again, they almost always walk in with a fairly unfriendly, "Morning." Like, I'm the CEO. I say when it's morning.
The phrase "good morning" annoys me anyway. And you know how I hate all men who send me good morning texts.
So that sums up my weekend. Fascinating, June. Oh! And also, when I woke up yesterday morning, I realized I'd left the broiler on all night, and my mother just fainted, and I was all, Oh, damn. So then half an hour later I went in to "make toast."
I don't have a toaster. I got rid of it during my year abroad, and that toaster at Ned's house was Ned's. I've never gotten another, which is dumb because I make toast all the time, and all my LA friends are appalled I eat bread right now.
So I broil it. I put bread in the broiler and have to flip it, like it's steak. But it's bread.
Twenty minutes later, I was all, Oh my god I forgot the bread! But when I went in there, I realized I hadn't turned on the broiler. After having had it on all night. Goddammit. Ten minutes after that, I was all, THE BREAD! and I ran in there and opened the broiler.
I'd forgotten to put in bread. I'd opened the bread, forgotten to get any out, and put the bread away.
Dementia runs in my family. I will miss you all.
In other news, I went to the grocery store at 9 p.m. last night. That's the time to do it. Late on Sunday. No one else is in there except for other terribly single people who don't have to watch The Wonderful World of Disney with their kids on Sunday nights. If some cable show knew what it was doing, it'd rerun WWoD on Sundays at 7:00, so everyone could have that "It's Sunday and Wonderful World of Disney" is on dread.
I noticed, in my weekend of solitude and nothingness, that many of my friends have up and gone all at once. Jo lives an hour away now, and Naughty Professor moved to Charlotte with his man. Tall Boy is still here, but he has a girlfriend, so. BRF Alex works in Winston now, so while she's HERE she's still spending most of her time far away. Roy and Nancy moved to Pennsylvania, and Charlie moved to Boston.
Ned moved to ex-boyfriend world.
Ryan has a girlfriend in Raleigh, so he's always with her. And The Other Copy Editor and her spouse just bought a gigantic mansion that they're turning into a B&B, so they're busy, and no, no one has any idea how they can afford it, but there they are, having done it.
Fleeta left work Friday, as she is moving to China. CHINA! And the other Alex, who I do yoga with? Her last day is Tuesday, and she's also going to be working in Winston.
solitary, pink-haired June
I don't mind isolating, I really don't, but probably I should get out more and do things. I've been thinking of going to the Unitarians on Sundays, but why do they have to meet so godawful early? Whoever heard of doing something at 11:00 on a Sunday? Can't they have, like, later meetings for people who drink?
Come to the Unitarian church. We meet at 11:00 for normal people, and at 4:00 for drinkers.
Actually, as part of my big weight loss plan, I have not been drinking at all, except for weekend evenings. That's my rule. I've lost five pounds! Allegedly. My new digital scale seems to be all over the place. One day it'll read 120 and the next day 125.
Oh, did I not mention my digital scale tells you what you weighed in 1990? It's like Facebook's time hop feature.
I'd better get to work. Tomorrow I have to be in my 8:00 for a meeting, which lasts till 8:45, and then from 9 to 5 I have a meeting. All day. 9 to 5. Lord.
I leave you with the caliber of messages I've been getting online...
...yeah.
