Life of the Lintee Bean

Hi Blog,

I know I told you I had stories to share, but instead I feel compelled to tell you about my day at work.  Not that it was a particularly eventful day.  Like many, perhaps most, days, my “glamorous” job super analytical job mostly involved Sesame Street type games of “one of these things is not like the other”.

AAAAHHHHH!!!!!  This blog post is interrupted by hail and brimstone falling from the sky!!!!!  Duck and cover!!!!

Okay, things seem to have gone back to semi-normal.  Whew!

So, anyway – doing my usual “which of these policies is not like the 2.5 million others” fun and games today.  I did go to Starbucks – but I resisted buying a scone or other delicious pastry.  Yes, I’m rather proud of myself for that.  I ordered a sugar-free vanilla iced coffee with nonfat milk and somehow got an iced caramel macchiato instead – but I feel those calories shouldn’t count against me, as I didn’t ORDER them, after all.  They should be free.  (Wow, and I was able to get the spelling of macchiato correct, it seems – on the first try! Go me!)

A coworker sent me (and another coworker) a “puzzle” – and we were able to figure it out (for which I rewarded myself with some of my coworker’s chocolate) and answer some related questions (for which I gave myself more chocolate).

When it was time to leave work, I decided to dump the water I’d poured (but never drank) into my plant.  I have a “black thumb of death” and generally kill all plants quickly simply by coming into proximity to them. However, this plant (actually part of a plant) has managed to survive many years in my office – probably because coworkers often take pity on it and help it out.

It was more water than I thought.

I now had about 2 inches of standing water in the pot.

I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I suspected this was not good for the plant – but picking the plant up and trying to dump the water off seemed sure to result in dumping the plant and soil.

I decided maybe the soil just needed aerating and tried to poke holes in it with my fingers.

At this moment, my coworker stopped by to ask about “Sum of the Max” versus “Max of the Sum” treatment in CARVM valuations. I tried to pretend I didn’t have a drowning plant screaming for help and potting soil all over my hands.  Maybe she wouldn’t notice.

She did.

It started raining on my way home. That’s okay.  I don’t mind rain – especially if it’s not cold, and it’s 70 degrees (Fahrenheit). It was just drizzling. It was still raining when I got off the train. About half way from the train station, it started REALLY raining. I’m getting soaked, but I didn’t get out my umbrella which I actually had with me. By the time I’m 3/4 home, I’m REALLY WET.  For some reason, I’d much rather people that see me think “Oh, that poor dumb woman didn’t take an umbrella despite the weather forecast and the fact it’s been raining for days”.  That seems preferable to “Wow, what a complete idiot to be walking in the rain without using their umbrella”.  However, there’s something kind of liberating about just getting wet and disheveled and messy and enjoying the rain.

I had more I wanted to say – but all that hail and brimstone made me forget.  Well, that or the narcotics. (Yay, hydrocodone!)

I’ve got Boogeyman and Boogeyman 2 on DVD from Netflix.  Woot!  I’m kind of hoping it keeps raining so I have an excuse to further ignore the horrible yard with all the weeds in it, and have a Boogeyman marathon.

Lynette

P.S. I don’t know why I’ve started addressing all my posts to you, like letters… maybe because I was thinking about how you’re like my diary – and people write “Dear Diary” (don’t they?) – I’ll probably get over it eventually.

P.P.S. I forgot to tell you about the huge mess I made with popcorn today in my office.

P.P.P.S. I forgot – I took pictures

My poor drowning plant

this is my keyboard. Coworkers often make fun of me for having plastic wrap over it – but I do this because 1) I am messy and get crumbs everywhere when I eat at my desk, which is all the time and 2) one of my many superpowers is apparently acid fingerprints that eat the lettering off keyboards

These are shoes. I keep them at work, as that’s where I’m most likely to wear shoes. At home I wear flip-flops or slippers. When leaving home, I generally wear comfy practical shoes, not these sorts of shoes. One exception – one pair of “sexy” sandals, just in case of emergency – oh, and some black pumps and some brown pumps – in case of actual going somewhere where I’d wear nice shoes.