I discussed some of my dating prospects with Jill, a coworker, and then asked Jill if she had her eye on anyone. A law student maybe?
I discussed some of my dating prospects with Jill, a coworker, and then asked Jill if she had her eye on anyone. A law student maybe?
I need a FAQ page on this blog. I usually respond to questions via twitter, but my new readers keep asking the same question: “Why don’t you write more about dating or work?”
My answer: discretion. This blog is fun, but not sloppy.
Contrary to popular belief, there is a filter here…well, sort of. One trick I learned as a resident assistant in undergrad is that clean living is the simplest way to avoid projecting dirt, so I try not to do anything that I would have a problem with broadcasting on the world wide inter-web.1
That means that there is less to filter, which my life easier, because filter refills are expensive…
Amber ended law school on a high note:
Me: “You finished! Congrats! How does it feel to finish law school?”
Amber: “I…I don’t know. I don’t feel anything…”
Me: “Excitement?”
I think I overdid it yesterday.
Yesterday, the sweet sound of garbage trucks woke the dogs up at 5am. I walked the monsters, snuck off to the library, and took my Family Law exam at 8:30.
After the exam I channeled Jillian Michaels for two hours at the gym, walked the dogs again, and then (somehow) ended back in the library to print of copious amounts of international tax law regs.
The cafeteria cashiers at work are awesome.
Donna: “Only two bananas?”
Me: “Yep. I’m being healthy.”
Jill and I were in the company store rifling through the massive candy selection when we make a discovery: Burger King French toast flavored snacks!
Jill: “That’s vile. I’m going to buy a bag of that crap so we can try it.”
Jill and I brought the bag of toxic nast flavored-snacks back to the cubicles and forced Amber to partake in the taste test. The snacks taste like carmeled cheetos…which didn’t sit well with Jill and Amber:
I frequently share an elevator with a guy who looks just like Michael Buckley. Until today I have only exchanged polite nods with Buckley in that “I’m acknowledging your fashion sense” sort of way, but today Buckley broke the ice:
Buckley: “Nice shoes.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Buckley: “I have a similar pair, but my boss would kill me if I wore loafers1 to work. Even nice ones.”
Me: “I am an intern, so we are expected to look a hot mess anyway.”
Buckley (cackling): “I didn’t think you guys were aware of that.”
Earlier: Amber’s Skill and Competence.
1 Joseph Abboud loafers.
Amber is raging about the office today. Amber’s father is a dog breeder and coaxed her into running a Twin Cities kennel club, which apparently1 has caused some drama:
I went to Barnes and Noble after work. I wandered the store looking lost and bewildered. If I wasn’t in my work clothes they would have mistaken me for an invalid that ran away from his court-appointed guardian.
This was the first time in months that I was in a bookstore for pleasure. I used to love Barnes and Noble, but today everything looked ridiculous. There were aisles romance novels, get-rich-quick, find-jesus, John Grisham-bootlegs, and Jillian Michaels1 with her dominatrix glare.
Oh and Twilight. The horny-teen-vampires were everywhere. Harry Potter has been replaced by werewolf abs.
All of the magazines looked terrible. J-Lo was famished. Ashton Kutcher was airbrushed. Paula Deen was cracked out and Oprah looked tired.
I bought Writer’s Digest and drove home. The magazine is still in the bag. I am tired and can’t be bothered.
I leave for Miami on Thursday, so my days consist of getting up, going to work, coming home to walk the dog and sleep. No one is forcing me to work full time over the break, but I have a job, and that job is contingent on me being a student. Without any guarantee that my company will hire me after graduation, I cannot justify working less than full-time now.
Barbri expenses are around the corner. Rent. Emergency fund. Coffee. I’m a chipmunk hoarding acorns for a long winter.
Plus work is fun. I’m with classmates and students from other schools. Someone is always has a story about a professor, family member, interesting case or class. There’s coffee, constant laughter, and yes, a paycheck. Novels and magazines can wait. Things are fun right now.
1 And you know I own a Jillian Michaels book (see here)
NPR said that the snow storm would worsen Wednesday. They used the term “blinding snow” so I figured that I had to go into work yesterday afternoon to avoid the impending whiteout.
I rethought the wisdom of going to work while crossing the Mendota bridge. The snow clung to my windshield and a semi-truck tailgated me Jeepers Creepers-style. I was surely going to die there on that bridge. Who was going to walk Harley?
I made it to work alive and worked for 10 hours.
I considered leaving around 7pm because the building felt abandoned and the snow had picked up – I felt like the lone beachgoer who didn’t get the memo about the typhoon.
After a gchat consultation with a classmate, I decided to stick it out until midnight, and I am glad that I did.
I was shocked by how bright it was outside of the office. A team of caterpillar plow trucks had cleared a pathway to my car, and one of the drivers lit up my car as I defrosted and scraped the windows.
The roads in Eagan were semi-plowed, and the speeding drivers of the afternoon had vanished to the ER.
I made it home before 1am. The next task was walking the much-neglected dog. I put on my gear: snowboots, face mask, 2 pairs of long johns, gloves… and then took Harley outside looking like a Chechen sniper.
Unlike the bitching I got earlier this semester, the dog LOVED the deep snow! He was so excited that I had to take him off the leash because he kept dragging me through the snow as if he was on an audition to become Santa’s next reindeer.
I took Harley to the park this morning so he could continue his frolicking. Pictures are here.
I had a “do not park” moment at work today: I was listening to RuPaul’s “Looking Good, Feeling Gorgeous” when I decided to look up the lyrics. It’s okay to take a break right?
My computer did not approve of RuPaul because I had just finished reading the lyrics when my computer shuts off.
I spend the next five minutes trying to turn it on and then 30 more minutes on the phone with tech support.
Tech Support: “It just turned off?”
Me: “Yep. And every time I try to turn it back on it sort of starts, and then shuts right back off.”
Tech Support: “That’s weird. We’ll fix it Monday.”
So I guess the 20 hours of work I was going to put in this weekend are not going to happen. More time for Tax law?
I read a lot of animal hoarding and cases at work, but last Sunday I came across a case that was so horrifying that I almost went home.
The case involved the typical hoarding situation: a house stuffed like Noah’s Arc and caked with feces. The description of the house so gruesome however, that I just wanted to speed home, shower, and bleach my entire apartment.
My standards for cleanliness have definitely changed over the past few years. I have a lot of plants, a pet frog, and Harley.
Crumbs, dog hair, and dead leaves are now a fact of life. I clean on a biweekly basis but there is no way to teach the dog to stop shedding, or keep the apartment perfectly sterile.
Only three people have seen my apartment, and they would probably agree that it is relatively clean. But when I read the case last Sunday my kitchen trash was full, the dishes piled, and the laundry unfolded. I was so absolutely disgusted that I devoted all of yesterday to cleaning. The case is after the jump.
Jack is the only other intern at work today, so of course I have to trip right by his cubicle. My cases become airborn and crash everywhere.
I’m scrambling to pick up the cases when Jack spins around in his chair with a huge Cheshire Cat grin:
Jack: “You do that a lot don’t you?”
Ugh.
Amber, a coworker who goes to another law school, had an interesting day:
Amber: “Oh my god! So classes already started and there is a girl in two of my classes with the most ridiculous cleavage. She’s a 3L and sits in front of me for both classes, so I spent two hours just lost in her boobs! And the girl is fat, so it’s like 12 inches of cleavage!”
Me: “Is it inappropriate?”
Amber: “Of course it’s inappropriate! And I don’t know how she gets them to stick up and out like that. A bra with whale bones? And who says, ‘Hey, it’s Wednesday, let’s SHOW THE TWINS!’”
Me: “So you’re telling me that Dolly Parton attends your school?”
Amber: “YES! She is Dolly Parton. Dolly Parton with a tan.”
I’m driving to work when I realize that I forgot to bring my water bottle, so I decide to pull into White Castle and order a large drink, so I had something to use as a water-cup later…brilliant right?
White Castle Employee (through the drive thru speaker): “Thank you for choosing White Castle, what are you craving today?”
Me: “Uh, may I have a large diet coke?”
Employee: “Okay.”
Me: “That’s it.”
Employee: “That’s it?!”
Me: “Yes.”
Employee: “What about a slider?”
Me: “No. Just a diet coke.”
Employee: “Fries?”
Me: “No thank you. Just a diet coke.”
Employee: “You’re not craving any food?”
Me: “Nope. “
Employee: “None at all? Onion rings?”
Me: “Uh. No. I am only craving a Diet Coke today…gotta watch my youthful figure.”
Employee: “Uh?”
Me: “Nothing. JUST THE DIET COKE PLEASE.”
Employee: “Fine. Pull up.”
Me: “Thank you.”
So I pay for a Diet Coke and a nasty glare, and then drive off to work.
Although I forgot my water bottle, I did remember to bring my coffee tumbler. So I march up to the office building, cup and tumbler in hand, in my professional Express slacks, with a briefcase stuffed full of snacks (like unsalted peanuts and apples) feeling thoroughly prepared for my day. Que bring it! Si si si!
So of course the hot mess starts in the elevator…
I’m in the elevator with three people, and I sense the small Indian woman in the corner staring at me – or rather – staring at my butt. She looks confused and shocked.
She catches me giving her the “what the hell?” look and says,
Woman: “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that your peanuts are sticking out!”
So, of course everyone in the elevator stops and gawks at the big can of peanuts that is precariously hanging out of my briefcase.
And then they all watch me awkwardly juggle my coffee tumbler and White Castle cup so I can cram my peanuts back into my food-stuffed briefcase.1 A flap on the briefcase comes open, revealing more food, and I get the “Fatty!” look from everyone.
And yes, they totally started snickering when I left the elevator. They couldn’t even wait for the doors to close.
Ugh.
1 I was wearing a shoulder strap, so the briecase was on my side, hence why it looked like she was staring at my butt. Although nice thing about working at a ginormous company is that it’s unlikely that I’ll ever see those people again since they don’t work on my floor.
I pull two apples from my bag at work:
Me: “Ugh.”
Jack: “What?”
Me: “These aren’t organic so you can see the pesticide residue at the top of the apple. Jillian Michaels would not approve…”
Jack: “Ew, yeah. You’re gonna to have to wash those.”
Me: “But the sink is so far away… I should just…”
Jack: “Don’t. Just go and wash them. Stop being lazy.”Fine.
So I’m walking down the hallway to the bathroom to wash the apples and decide that it would be a good idea to juggle them.1 I haven’t juggled anything since third grade so it was only a few moments before I launch one of the apples down the hallway and give chase…
The apple flies past the cafeteria doors and I almost plow into a janitor before snatching up the apple like a baseball.
Janitor (calling by back into the cafeteria to another janitor):“Hey, Marty! The interns are playing fetch again!”
I grunt, flush, and scurry away…
1 It’s Saturday, so the office is fairly deserted. I don’t juggle fruit during the week…
So Jill just walked over to Jack’s cubicle at work:
Jill: “Here, I bought you a bag of gummy bears.”
Jack: “Gummy bears? Why? I’m eating carrots…”
Jill: “I know, but you should eat these gummy bears instead.”
Jack: “But I’m on a health kick.”
Jill: “Yes, and it is loud. Doc review is bad enough without the crunch and munch. Here, the gummy bears are delish, I promise.”
Photo: Matt Schwartz.
At least my sticky notes aren’t boring.
