Just thinking....
1. I will catch you up on Lincoln's camp.
2. Why are crappy little umbrellas so EXPENSIVE here?
3. Do men who walk tiny little dogs feel emasculated? Especially when they must WAIT for these tiny dogs to do their business and then PICK IT UP?
A. If I had a tiny little dog in NYC I would train them on piddle pads because there is NO WAY that I would enjoy taking them outside to do their business in the winter ...no way, friend. Especially if I had to walk the EIGHT FLIGHTS OF STAIRS that we do upon leaving and entering our rented apartment.
Which brings me to:
4. STAIRS. God help me, I thought I was in shape.....I was wrong. To get into our apartment we must climb EIGHT FLIGHTS OF STAIRS. Granted, they are not NYU flights of stairs. They are made of lovely wood and shorter in stature....on a scale of 1 - 10 in stair badassedness they would be a 5. Regardless they are still stairs. AND, and, and....there are NINE flights if you are coming from street level. They are an interminable nine flights if you are coming from your neighborhood Starbucks after a Venti Mocha.
Which makes me think of:
5. My neighborhood Starbucks: They call my name when my coffee is ready. I've been here less than a week and already they are calling me Stef. Whoa! I must have made quite an impression. (They do ask for my name when I order my coffee...actually they ask for everyone's name ....and then write it on our cups. I don't care. I'm going to believe that they KNOW me. Like I'm Norm on Cheers.)
Which leads me to the present moment:
6. GOD HELP ME! God help me but I am OLD! Two 20/30 something's are conducting a job interview right next to me. Jesus, the nerve! Now I cannot concentrate on my own thoughts and instead cannot help but eaves drop on their conversation. I can't help it, they are basically sitting in my lap! I just scoped out a look, the interviewer caught me, think he's onto me. I'm sure he can tell my age by my slow and and labored plodding on this iPad keyboard. They are dressed in shorts and T-shirts. He looks like he just rolled out of bed. She uses words such as "like" and "seriously" a lot. They are talking of "small start up Internet companies" and using many terms that are not in my lexicon. This saddens me, as I feel like I've really missed the boat with this Internet thing, and I am destined for a life of hard, manual labor. These kids will be working in flip flops from beaches while I'm still trudging my sorry, saggy, elderly ass to work, even after my double knee replacements. Oy.
2. Why are crappy little umbrellas so EXPENSIVE here?
3. Do men who walk tiny little dogs feel emasculated? Especially when they must WAIT for these tiny dogs to do their business and then PICK IT UP?
A. If I had a tiny little dog in NYC I would train them on piddle pads because there is NO WAY that I would enjoy taking them outside to do their business in the winter ...no way, friend. Especially if I had to walk the EIGHT FLIGHTS OF STAIRS that we do upon leaving and entering our rented apartment.
Which brings me to:
4. STAIRS. God help me, I thought I was in shape.....I was wrong. To get into our apartment we must climb EIGHT FLIGHTS OF STAIRS. Granted, they are not NYU flights of stairs. They are made of lovely wood and shorter in stature....on a scale of 1 - 10 in stair badassedness they would be a 5. Regardless they are still stairs. AND, and, and....there are NINE flights if you are coming from street level. They are an interminable nine flights if you are coming from your neighborhood Starbucks after a Venti Mocha.
Which makes me think of:
5. My neighborhood Starbucks: They call my name when my coffee is ready. I've been here less than a week and already they are calling me Stef. Whoa! I must have made quite an impression. (They do ask for my name when I order my coffee...actually they ask for everyone's name ....and then write it on our cups. I don't care. I'm going to believe that they KNOW me. Like I'm Norm on Cheers.)
Which leads me to the present moment:
6. GOD HELP ME! God help me but I am OLD! Two 20/30 something's are conducting a job interview right next to me. Jesus, the nerve! Now I cannot concentrate on my own thoughts and instead cannot help but eaves drop on their conversation. I can't help it, they are basically sitting in my lap! I just scoped out a look, the interviewer caught me, think he's onto me. I'm sure he can tell my age by my slow and and labored plodding on this iPad keyboard. They are dressed in shorts and T-shirts. He looks like he just rolled out of bed. She uses words such as "like" and "seriously" a lot. They are talking of "small start up Internet companies" and using many terms that are not in my lexicon. This saddens me, as I feel like I've really missed the boat with this Internet thing, and I am destined for a life of hard, manual labor. These kids will be working in flip flops from beaches while I'm still trudging my sorry, saggy, elderly ass to work, even after my double knee replacements. Oy.
Love the way you write.❤️
ReplyDeleteLove your thinking style! How does Lincoln do with the stairs?
ReplyDelete