I really don’t understand myself sometimes.
I’m getting ready to leave a client’s this afternoon when I remember I’ve got a barbecue stain on my jacket. As I gather my things I ask myself, “Is it nerdier to leave the stain alone, or wear my Emergency Operations Center security pass to cover the stain?”
Look like a slob, or a dork? That is the question.
Finally, the overstuffed, well not anymore, employee who has been hogging the bathroom emerges and I can wash the BBQ off my jacket, thus solving myself the humiliation of looking like I don’t possess the motor skills and coordination of a 4-year-old.
I’m weird, okay. Get it now? Deal.
Now I’ve got to go set up Tigress’ BrailleNote PK. It’s just wrong that she got hers first. Just. Plain. Wrong. It probably doesn’t matter too much though, cuz I’ll just “borrow” it occasionally anyway. After all what’s her’s is mine. Right?
Oh, except, I forgot she told me, “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.”
She thinks she’s so cute.
She is, but really, don’t you all think that’s beside the point completely?
No? Well fine then.
I guess a hot looking Italian just can’t win anymore.