I haven’t been in the mood to do much with my blog this week. Work has been busy, so I haven’t had much downtime to write while I’m there, and I’ve spent most of my mornings loudly listening to music and generally upsetting the cats’ nap schedule.
However, I did meet two old high school friends for breakfast on Thursday. I’ve seen Stacey since school, but this was the first time I’ve hung out with Mindy since senior year and that was a bit surreal (in a good way). They each brought their small baby-aged daughters, who behaved remarkably well. (I’m used to my kid, who was not always the best baby to take to restaurants; in fact, I never took him unless Henry was with me too. #spoiled) It’s not really a secret that I am horrible around kids, especially babies, so when Stacey said to her daughter, “Stay here with Miss Erin while I go get us food at the buffet,” my heart sort of seized up on me. And then when Mindy left her baby with me too, I squealed, “BOTH of them?!”
SPOILER ALERT: We all survived! None of us cried, even! Though we did all sit there, staring at each other in horror. But Mindy and Stacey eventually came back (I will be honest and say that I considered the fact that this could have been some sick, elaborate Runaway Mom plan) and all was right with the world again.
Until they fixated all of their attention on trivial matters, like feeding their babies, while I was left to sit alone with my coffee. Finally, I whined, “Guys, talk to me too!” And they laughed, but I was totally serious.
Stacey said she was going to go home and sit in fear, waiting for some mean and scathing blog post about our meet-up, but I promised her it wouldn’t be bad. Then after I thought about it for a second, I added, “You know, I think that’s why some people just won’t ever hang out with me, because they don’t want to be on my blog.”
But not because I’m annoying, obnoxious, socially awkward, pathetic and extremely attention-starved.
When we were paying, Stacey suggested that I buy something to take home for Henry. (Because she, along with 90% of my Facebook friends, feels sorry for him.) So I did, because I thought it would be fun to watch his face become awash with suspicion.
“What do you think he’ll say?” Mindy asked.
“Either, ‘What did you do to it’ or ‘What garbage can did you pull this out of?'” I said. But instead, you know what he said? “Ew, a bear claw? Seriously? Are you trying to make me fat?”
JESUS, I JUST CAN’T WIN.
In other news, I got to have breakfast with Barb and Wendy today! It was so good seeing Barb. (And Wendy too, but god, I see her every day!) I don’t know when Barb is going to be back to work, but it sucks there without her. Someone asked me for a post-it the other day, and of course I have like zero office supplies in my desk because why would a secretary-type person like myself actually have office supplies in her desk?
“Sorry, I’m no Barb Riley,” I answered, and Lee thought this was the best answer ever and wants me to tape that underneath my name on my desk now.
It’s true though!
Barb said she’s proud of how far I’ve come in her absence. I mean, sure, I still have to ask for the occasional assistance in opening my Crystal Light packets, and I just learned that the extra faucet in the office kitchen is for filtered water! (Whoever would have thought!?) But I haven’t completely withered away and I’m (kind of) dealing with things like an adult, but only because I’ve had no choice. Who else there will coddle me!? No one, that’s who.
Chooch has another ear infection so we didn’t go skating today. My only plans are to go to Hot Topic to but the new Hands Like Houses CD, sit and watch Henry make some of my non compos cards to sell at the National Haunt Convention in Philly this May, look at pictures of my Ginger King Jonny Craig and continue to block out the bagpipes that are playing at a funeral across the street.
Also, the Warped Tour line-up so far is so fucking sick, I could die. I might try to go twice this summer. (I already requested off work for the Pittsburgh date—IN DECEMBER.) But seriously, Pierce the Veil, The Used, Taking Back Sunday, Sleeping With Sirens, AND Of Mice and Men? Goddamn, this is a 16-year-old’s wet dream. I keep trying to get Henry to say he’s stoked, but he doesn’t reply to any of my texts anymore. Too many Jonny Craig shout-outs, I guess.
Sorry this has been all over the place, but well, so is my brain.