Livin' It Up
An email exchange with The Texan, from yesterday:
Texan: Please writey-writey in your diary. If you do, I promise to never say "writey-writey" again.
Emiloo: Um, here are the things I've done today. Just let me know which one you'd think would be the most exciting to read about:
-stuff candy bags for bratty teenagers, who, upon receiving them, will only complain that "Y'all ain' got no Skittles?" and "Green gummies is nasty!"
-fold shitty invitations for our shitty office Christmas party, for which we have the option of (1)purchasing a sandwich for $5, or (2) bringing our own lunch, and to which we are supposed to "Bring your favorite dessert for the dessert buffet!" Also we "have the chance to win exciting door prizes," two or three of which are tickets to something cool, and the rest are all POINSETTIAS.
Exciting times. Now you see why I no writey-writey.
And truly, that's about how it's been for a while. Also, I do concede that green gummies is nasty, but if someone were to give me a free bag of candy, I'd be a little more appreciative. Damn whipper snappers and their candy snobbery.
I wish I were joking about this Christmas party, y'all, but I work for the broke-ass government, and we are not allowed to spend money on things like fun, food, or prizes other than poinsettias.
Somehow I was appointed to make invitations to this "party" ("Oh, get Emily to do it! She's so good at that kind of thing!"), and our HR coordinator decided she wanted "special" invitations this year, not the customary flyer stuck in everyone's mail box. So, I made an invitation that sort of folded over like a present, and tied with ribbon. This all seemed like a very neat idea, until we got to tying little bows on 187 invitations. Special, indeed.
Anywhoo, maybe I'll win a prize, or maybe one of the people who gets a poinsettia will own cats that they don't want to poison, and they'll give it to me. A girl can dream.