Okay, this post is a little unseemly, so if you're squeamish, stop reading now!
I met a woman at work who's part of our lunchtime group. We seemed to have a lot in common. Both grew up in Kansas, attended the same college, etc.... She seemed to be wound much tighter than most of the group -- a little more formal and prim. While it's an informal workplace dress wise, she seemed to be going by that old adage of dressing for your next job. Actually, the head of the place dresses about four notches below her, so I guess she's aiming for the corporate board? And she also errs on the side of bringing up topics at lunch that I try to steer clear of in the workplace -- politics and religion. She's made the assumption that all her lunch partners are cut from the same cloth.
Anyway, I dashed into the bathroom after lunch yesterday on my way back to the cubicle. Too much Diet Pepsi! (Here's the point where the squeamish need to STOP reading.) In the stall, I'm hearing a husky little voice from the next one belting out a thundering church hymn accompanied by her own percussion instruments if you get my drift. Christ is Risen Hallelujah!
As I glanced down at the shoes in that stall, I verified it was my new tightly wound acquaintance. I quickly exited the stall for obvious reasons. As I washed hands and dashed out the door, she was onto verse 2.
When I told Craig the story last night and asked him his opinion, he said -- you are $#itting me! Okay, I admit, this is a rather tawdry post. hee hee hee But I kinda felt like I'd been privy (no pun intended) to a sitcom scene.
Work otherwise is going swimmingly. Yesterday the servers were down for almost two hours. I finished Odd Mom Out, a fluffy little chick novel set in my ex-hometown of Bellevue, Washington. I've met another woman from Bellevue who also sits with our lunch group and she and I have been hooting it up over The Housewives of Bellevue. She meets some of the Bellevue ex-pat's in her realty business and says many of the women have a hard time adjusting to some of the unseemly sights they see in Arizona. Like pickup trucks parked on the driveway. She says they tend to wander the retirement community way over dressed in designer duds.
When I got home last night, one of the umbrellas had blown over the wall into the Bumpus's backyard, so Craig managed to get a stepladder and retrieve it without having to actually knock on their front door. He seems to have an aversion to that. : ) Mr. Bumpus woke me up this morning at 4 a.m. revving up his Corvette on the driveway. Early golf game?
I have God and Mr. Gomez on hold at the library, but won't be able to get there to pick it up until this evening. So Growing Up bin Laden will be today's choice for workplace reading. Yesterday during the two hours downtime, some people in our cubicle got slightly noisy during naptime. The supervisor nicely said, "Let's keep it down. Some people are trying to read!"
Someone should donate a sofa. I know right where we can get one!