Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I get up every morning, predictably late...usually at least 30mins after my initial alarm went off having hit the snooze button at least 3 times with an only semiconscious remembrance of doing so.
I have just enough time left to feed the cats, quick shower and put together an outfit and grab a water bottle out of the frig before running to catch a bus to the metro to work.
5151 Wisconsin Ave. 4th floor.
I get to my desk, say good morning to my office mate, open my email, respond to anything urgent or from the UK and pour myself a bowl of the frosted flakes that I keep in my desk. On cold days I make myself a cup of Chia tea.
I put in my 8ish hours, breaking for lunch in the usual way- I walk a block over to the Pet supply store to visit any new rescue cats that have been brought in, if that fails there is always the secondhand bookstore were I bought The Kite Flyer or I could hit up the TJ Max with the leaky roof or the Worldmarket to check to see what has gone on sale.
If I forgot to bring lunch then I go to the Subway across the street or pop in the Rodman's for a snack. All the employees know me in these places, after all, this is my little part of the world during the weekday.
5:23 exactly, I sign out. I walk 3ish blocks to the bus stop in front of the metro center.
I used to really like the afternoon bus driver, he was a really nice guy but he got a new route and was replaced with a likewise nice bus driver who always says goodbye to his passengers in their native tongue. Why a man who speaks at least 3 languages fluently drives a bus for a living I don't know but I like to think that he is in the Witness Protection program but that's probably not it.
That's my stop. "Goodbye, see you tomorrow"to the bus driver. I get the mail and ride the elevator in my building to the 4th floor to my apartment.
I open the door and Rosie, my cali-cat jumps out into the hallway and I scoop her up. I feed the cats again. I change into lounge clothing. I eat whatever I have and watch countless episodes of crime mystery shows that all take place within 15 miles of where I live. Sometimes, they get so close as across the street from my building and the diabetic serial killer golfs at the golf course that the diabetes research foundation I work for hosts its annual golf fundraiser next month. I think I watch too much TV.
Lights out at 10:30, sometimes 11, sometimes midnight.
I am sure there is many a woman who wishes her life was as simple as mine. Sometimes I wish I could switch places with her for a while.
Estou começando a esquecer o minha português...
Friday, March 12, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
For the majority of my childhood, because of my height, I was assumed to be older than I actually was and I think because of it, subconciously, I tried to act the part.
However, sometime after my early twenties things magically flipped and my age assumption started to move backwards instead. It might have something to do with the extra padding I have gotten in the last few years causing my face to be fuller again but who can be sure really?
All I know is that I got carded on Friday night.
AT THE MOVIE THEATER.
They wanted to see my license to check that I was over 17 for an R rated movie.
I immediately had an instant identity crisis.
Being mistaken for a younger twenty something I have no problem with...but being mistaken for a teenager?! Perhaps I need a warerobe consultant or a new haircut. Or I should start wearing make up again?
I could ride all the rides at all the amusment parks by the age of 4 without a blink of an eye but now, at 28, it is questionable if I can see a movie by myself.
That sounds about right.