Haven't logged on in a while, and there are 385 unread messages in my inbox. Finally got Patrick an immigration lawyer, a friendly blonde who wears snazzy stiletto boots and charges $2000 over the cost of filing his petition all over again.
The manager who had us all spinning around in circles will be away for six weeks, which gives me about a month to decide what I really want. Of which I still have no clue.
Patrick got a speeding ticket, his first ticket ever. Saturday he logged onto Defensivedriving.com and completed the six-hour course. The certificate of completion should arrive tomorrow, via UPS.
Luz, Blanca and I got dressed up for work today: Luz in a summery pink skirt, sandals and a chocolate blazer; Blanca in a faux fur jacket, long green skirt and slouchy boots; and me in my new navy skirt suit with the gold trim ($22.99 from Ross).
We thought it would be our last lunch together as a trio, since they seem to be cracking down on mealtime violations (too early and too late) but as no one else seems to be changing schedules, there's really no reason for us to. In any case, tomorrow's Valentine's Day and I'm off so we at least celebrated that.
My feet are killing me. I wore my goldish New York Transit peep toes to work for the first (and probably only) time. I might have been fine but I took my last break very late and stayed past 5:30 to knock out as many price changes as I could. Finally clocked out at 5:51 having barely made a dent: 400 or so still left, which will be late on Thursday.
Here's a business proposition for you: open about 3,000 megastores across the U.S., pressure vendors to sell at deep discounts for the privilege of supplying said stores, hire people at $8.5o an hour and hold them to an extremely high standard, to take on multiple jobs and responsibilities most other companies would pay twice as much or hire twice as many for.
I don't know what else I might be good for, really.
I felt smart and fabulous today until someone enthused that my "fat legs look sooooo cute!". Gaaahhh. Now I remember why I usually wear pants, and wear long skirts if I must wear a skirt at all.
My major emotional rollercoaster of the week has been the juvenile thought that someone might have a crush on me. Now reality has kicked in, which in the world of me is that it's altogether more likely that I thought he might and he noticed my noticing and so we both think we are liked by the other and wonder about the whys and wherefores when there really isn't anything at all. And it's all a pointless exercise because we're both married, a thought which probably should have been my first.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
Patrick's started a new character, a monk gal named Kachiko, who looks a good deal like Cherish, except that she has black hair.
For his birthday Patrick got a pair of Oakley Valves in black. On the day itself I surprised him after dinner with a little cake. I told him I'd get us both dessert, and came back singing "Happy Birthday" and bearing a mini-cake with candles lit. He was touched and embarrassed and protested "You didn't say anything!" and it was all very cute and happy.
I've been having strange dreams lately. And I'm still waiting to win the lotto.
~*~*~*
The Carpenters' ~I Need to Be in Love~
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