Day Three

On the way in to work today, we stopped at the most expensive gas station in town, the one at the base of the Watergate. It inhabits a quaint little stone canal house and charges $5000 per gallon. Of course, one only visits the most expensive gas station in town if one is neighbors with the likes of Condoleezza Rice and Placido Domingo. Or if one has the kind of big picture vision to know that it’s better to get a couple pricey gallons in the morning than to waste any time on the ride home. Fortunately, my car pool driver has this kind of vision.

While she was pumping, I popped in to the quaint little stone store and bought myself a yummy Vanilla-licious uber-frothy Starbuck’s Frappuccino. Ooh la la. And my day has been cruisin’ ever since. I supplemented after lunch with a COKE (!) and my afternoon was a double header the likes of which my neuropaths have never known. Man, did I get a lot done today. I swear, I think I had a whole day’s worth of work done by 9:00. And by 2:00, forget about it. The phone was ringing off the hook. My feed was down. My feed was up. I was working the Exchange server double-time with all the email flying out of my Outbox. I was what people outside the government call “productive”. I could teach workshops on this shit.

On the ride home yesterday, my car pool driver and I were discussing the color fuschia. She’s a big fan. Me, not so much. I was explaining to her that this is because I’m an Autumn. She said she must be a Winter or Spring because she loves fuschia with anything and owns quite a lot of it. I got to thinking about being an Autumn and why I know this. And it dawned on me that this was one of the few semi-useful bits of information that I garnered from being a Girl Scout.

Yes, it’s true. While the Boy Scouts were out learning things like how to tie knots so your shit won’t blow away and how to hunt with a buck knife so you can survive in the woods for a week on your own, we were being visited by make-up specialists. I find this unnerving. Especially now that I’m supposed to have a “go kit” ready on a moment’s notice for when the terrorists arrive.

I do have my “go kit” ready and I have my escape route mapped out and I have all my emergency contacts on permanent notice. But god forbid a gale wind should strike while I’m on the back of my getaway moped because all my shit’s going to blow away. Because I only know how to responsibly select eye shadow.

Of course, if there is any color choice at all in selecting one’s burka in the post-fundamentalist-invasion America, I will certainly know to stick with chocolate, olive and pumpkin.

2 Responses to “Day Three”

  • “I do have my “go kit” ready and I have my escape route mapped out and I have all my emergency contacts on permanent notice.”


  • I think I’m a SPRING! LOL!

    Girl, you crack my shit UP! Your entries this week have been fun as ALL HELL! I LOVE IT!

    I think it’s crazy funny that your blog was jsut an elaborate attempt to snare a Mat! Especially since it’s YOUR fault I’m addicted to reading these things!!! Yours was the ‘gateway blog’!!!!! {{sigh}}

    Keep ’em comin’ (and uh, ease up on the caffeine maybe a *little*. You’re likely to pop a blood vessel or something at this rate 😉 )

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