AUTHOR: Beth TITLE: DATE: 9/21/2004 03:26:00 PM ----- BODY:

It's Time Again For...

Completely Random Thoughts! Every place I've ever worked during the day, it's 3:30 pm for about an hour.
***
This past weekend, while my parents were away, it fell to Steve and me to give the cat her pills each morning. So picture this: The cat, looking somehow indignant, terrified and embarrassed at the same time, Steve, attempting to hold both sets of her paws as well as support her little spine, despite the fact that he is one of those people with the inborn inability to hold a cat, Me, with a white pill-shooter about the size of a No.2 pencil, with first a pink, then a white pill, attempting to force the cat's jaws open with my other hand, And the cat, wailing in panic, spitting the white pill out over and over and over again. We had fun.
***
To my surprise, it dawned on me this weekend that for the first time in my life, I'd rather not hang around my parents' house on the weekend, despite the abundant food, central air conditioning, three televisions, three bathrooms, and washer / dryer service. I actually missed my apartment, and especially my bed. Well, I guess this is growing up.
***
I have rushing out of the house in the morning down to a science. And let me tell you, if you've never brushed your hair and your teeth at the same time, while sitting on the toilet, you haven't lived.
***
I went to the mall last night for the first time in forever with Michele. We did girly things like eat dinner at Uno's and bitch about stuff and browse at the Hefty Hideaway (I managed to get out of there before my credit card jumped out of my pocket, grabbed my hand and propelled me forcibly toward the cash register with an armful of clothes). Michele was wearing black pants under a black skirt under a black ribbed sweater. She had bright reddish-pink hair with orangey undertones. In other words, she looked freakin' fabulous. Suddenly I felt small and gray. Sometimes I think I should get a makeover, dye the hair, do the makeup, spruce up the wardrobe, make more of an effort. Most times, though, I think, "Eh."
***
Damn you, Kellie, for exposing me to this and ruining my workday. Okay, not really. Just damn.
--------