Another Day, Another Dollar

Thursday, February 16, 2006

The vice-president of our company was talking about his trip to the deli today, describing the ladies that were in front of him in line. He described them as "the type of women that wear ponytails, even though they're too old for it." This came as highly shocking news to me! There comes an age past which you cannot wear ponytails for fear of being ridiculed? How do I know when this age comes? Do you get a letter on your birthday, "Happy Birthday! No more ponytails for you! Oh, and you better start wearing practical shoes, too, by the way."? What will I do after that point on days I sleep in? When I'm doing spring cleaning? If I go to work out? (Yeah, like I work out so often. Pshh.) I can only hope that I won't embarrass myself and my daughter by clinging to youth for too long.

I got hit on at the post office. Doesn't that seem like a strange place to get hit on? Why didn't I think of it back when I was single?! Me and the girls, instead of going out to fun clubs and rocking parties, could've just gone to the local post office. What were we thinking?

I'm developing a severe love/hate relationship with paydays. I love it because, obviously, I get paid. But I'm growing to hate it because getting paid just serves to remind me how broke I really am. I suppose I should learn to just relish the two hours every other week that I actually have some money. Who cares that it all gets to go to the government, and the utility companies, and the grocery store, and the oil cartels? At least I earned it! My blood, sweat, and tears (and hours spent reading blogs) have paid off at last!

Yes, this is really what my workday is like. Someday, whether by choice or chance, I'll be a stay-at-home mom, and then thins will probably only get weirder.