My coffee is colored F. I love my coffee. I used to take it very sweet, but I worked my way down to no calorie coffee. I really am not a sweet coffee fan anymore. If I go to a fancier coffee place, I get a nonfat latte. No sugar in the coffee. I tend to buy flavored coffee, though, so I enjoy the smell even more. Hazelnut, butter toffee, buttery caramel, etc. My co-workers always wonder what the sweet smell is if they haven’t noticed that I have my cup of coffee. I do drink just plain black coffee if that’s all that’s available, though.
The woman who normally runs our front desk at work also deals with many of the kitchen tasks. She had surgery and will be out for several more weeks. She’s already been out for several.
Yesterday, I went into the kitchen at work and found that the salt shaker was empty. I filled it and then I texted the front desk person, joking, telling her that she needs to drop by, since the salt shaker is empty and she needs to fill it. She laughed.
I mentioned to some of my coworkers that I had texted. Most laughed. One told me she filled it last time. One actually said, “Oh, I saw that it was empty, but I didn’t know where we kept the salt” Really? There are only a few cabinets, and it is sitting right on the front part of the shelf, in the cabinet above the sink.
At least some of us are self sufficient enough to figure out the salt shaker.
I saw an advertisement for a person looking for blogs to edit. “Email for rates.” Is this a real job? I guess some people blog for a living. I just do it for tension release and sanity. My regular readers know this. I think I would drive an editor crazy with my grammar mistakes. Plus most of my posts are short and sweet. I kind of stick to a topic, but not really.
Maybe blog editors are checking their own sanity? I can’t imagine making enough money at it to do it full time. Most bloggers don’t make enough money at it to do it full time, either.
My alarm went off this morning and I rolled over and stretched. Three seconds later, I had a cat on me. She decided to tunnel under the blanket until only her tail showed. Of course, she was on the edge of the blanket that I needed to lift to get out of bed. I briefly considered calling in to work with the excuse of being a cat bed, or too snuggly in bed. I decided that I couldn’t do that. I had to disappoint the cat. When I got up, she got the warm spot on the bed, though. She didn’t complain much.
You can spend a day with two Authors who would they be?
I thought hard about this, but I decided that I just couldn’t make an informed decision.
I work with an author. He isn’t writing when he works, and we aren’t working in a setting where writing is the main topic, so I know that it is not 100% of his life. I assume all authors are like this. I also know his writing style isn’t reflected in his daily life – at least the part I see.
Just because I enjoy a writer’s book, doesn’t mean our personalities will fit well enough for me to want to spend a whole day with the writer. That goes for anyone, not just authors.
We work on the ground floor. An employee is standing in the elevator. Another one came by to get in the elevator and asked if it was going up. Umm… unless you’ve got a shovel, up is the only choice from the ground floor.
Yesterday, I had to pick up the paintings from the art show. I had to go between noon and four. Of course, it was an insane day at work, so I ran the first moment I got free.
Normally, the drive to the gallery and back to work would have been a half hour or so. Nope. Not this time. There was construction going on in two of the 3 lanes on the road to the gallery. Really? Can’t you do one lane at a time? The middle and the right lanes were blocked off.
After the construction zone came a series of 5 gallon buckets littering the road, so everyone had to swerve around them. It took me a half hour just to get to the gallery, and then time to pick up the paintings.
I headed back and there was more construction, on a different block, going that direction. So, I ended up finishing the trip in an hour, instead of in a half hour. Plus, there was no parking when I got back to work, so it took me even longer.
I finished up work and left. On my way home, there was another 5 gallon bucket. It was a perfect ending to the day.