Who Is You?!

This fucking coworker is really getting on my nerves now. While I'm trying to make my bagel* this morning, she comes into the kitchen and asks if I caught some segment on some morning show yesterday about sneaker collecting. This wasn't so much the problem as that her voice was dripping with this terrible condescending tone. It's like she was marinating this question to me for the past 24 hours in self-righeous. So what that some people wait in line for sneakers? That they spend more on shoes than on their apartments? WHAT DO YOU CARE? Everybody has something. Some people collect stamps. Other people, shoes. She keeps a compost bin and has a chicken coop. Just LET IT GO.

I've now realized that this is what makes everything she says super annoying. Taking the words at face value, you wouldn't think it was THAT annoying, but it's all soaked in this self-righteous I'm-better-you attitude that makes me want to rip her face off. Not all of us want to be self-satisfied high and mighty freakshows.

God. Now I'm gonna be annoyed for the rest of the day.


* Thomas' Bagels + Honey Nut Philadelphia creamcheese = awesome.

Boundaries

One of my coworkers is a bit of an over-sharer. It can feel quite awkward. For example, I know:

1. Her parents are quite the bigots,
2. Her siblings are often unemployed/drunk/wastes of life, and, most horribly,
   
3. She just had a colonoscopy last week.

There is NO REASON for me to know this. I do not want the details of her medical history, especially regarding her butt. This is an OVER-SHARE.

Kuyung says...

The other guys that Jesus raised up don't count?

This is true. Those are the first zombies. More accurately, Jesus is more like the first vampire, as he requires us to drink his blood to be in the club.

Photo When I Feel Like It

My mom insists on having something super Catholic in all of her cars, and I recently acquired some Batman legos. So now TwoFace has a new super best friend!

Also: Jesus, the first zombie?

SRT #77

And I have officially been accepted into one grad school, which means that come August, I'm outta here no matter what. I received an email about three weeks ago telling me to expect an acceptance package, and while I did tell others about this happy development, I was still halfway expecting a follow up saying they had made a terrible terrible mistake. But now that I have the actual package in my possession, I can rest a little easier.

And thank god, I don't think I can take much more of the ennui that is my job.