This entry is mostly about my work, and sometimes, vomit.

I like to think about lots of random things at work, while I'm mastering the art of dragging a rake across soil, or shovelling pond scum out of a pond. (Incidentally, no matter what anyone tells you, the smell of pond scum NEVER comes out of your clothes. I mean, good luck and all, if you ever find you've fallen into a fetid pond, or made an unfortunate attempt at ill advised swimming, but I can guarantee you now... that's the kind of smell that lodges itself in your nostrils. Kind of like how I can't drink Mike's Hard Lemonade, because the smell and taste remind me of warm summer nights spent vomiting over Melissa MacGill's balcony.)

Sometimes I think about things I'd like to buy when I get paid, like this shirt. Although, this is nothing compared to things I've received / bought in the past few weeks, because 25 should always be served with a dash of panic and a heaping spoonful of therapeutic selfishness. Sometimes I think about Disney songs. The themes from Beauty and the Beast go through my head at least half the day. That's right. I'm the crazy groundskeeper who spends half the day thinking about singing dinnerware.

Did I tell you guys that I DRIVE A TRACTOR? I feel as though this should always be referred to in capitals because it's so awesome. I drove my Uncle Ron's loader once, and I accidentally brought the giant claw down and took a chunk out of the road. He kept trying to tell me which button to press to stop from destroying the driveway, but I somehow managed to just keep digging deeper. We christened the pile of gravel "Sarah's Load". DRIVING A TRACTOR is going at least 15% better that this. I have thus far managed to avoid all flower beds. .... Mostly.

I am usually really exhausted after work. I peel off my dirt encrusted jeans and have really hot showers that involve a lot of nothing. It's a challenge to even find the energy to wash my hair. Creating a lather? Whatever. Most times I am probably lucky to open the shampoo bottle. Having a bath would be a lot easier, but the concept of filling the tub with water is much too hard. I don't have time to wait for that because I am an old woman who goes to bed before most of the 8 year olds on our block. Seriously, I am going to go to bed in like, 15 minutes, and I can still hear all the jam hands outside playing and starting fires and chasing each other around with used needles. Whatever the kids do. I'm out of the loop.

Tonight I had pledged to make my fellow coworkers cinnamon buns, but there was a bit of a yeast / margarine debacle and I don't think the result is nearly edible enough. Also, it is 8:30 now and my inner clock is already thinking about getting into my pajamas and rinsing out my dentures.

I had an EEG today, which was interesting. The gel is still in my hair, so I look pretty unwashed. I must've looked rough earlier when I stopped with my mom in Winner's on the way back to Chilliwack. The lady at the counter looked at my credit card, then at me, then back at my credit card, and demanded I show her some picture I.D. Because I totally would've stolen a credit card to buy some 4 dollar stationery and a 7 dollar cake stand apparently.

The dollhouse is coming along, very slowly. It's actually been a couple of weeks since I've really worked on it. I still have to finish painting the bottom left hand room and the attic, as well as the outside (which is currently white with red shutters and a black roof.) Then I'm going to start on the floors, either using decorative cardstock or hand painting hardwood-esque floors onto them. I don't know what I'm going to do with it when I'm finished. I will probably gaze at proudly, maybe in the manner that Jamie and I gazed at Safeway's panini's the other day. The lady came over to ask if we needed any help, and I told her that we were fine, that we were just gazing longingly at sandwiches. Because that is what we do on dates.

Labels: Musings, Shopping