I feel pathetic today. I’d like to get a massage and then curl up with someone who loves me and have them stroke my hair and tell me I’m pretty.
Also my feet are full of broken glass and Tabasco. No, that isn’t a metaphor. I was wearing flip-flops at work last night and I dropped a large bottle of Tabasco from a decent height and it shattered right at my feet. I managed not to badly cut myself, just a couple small ones, and now I have have three or four little slivers of glass left in my feet (and one in my hand). Only cowboy boots at work for me from now on.
Last night at work was a fiasco. They changed the menu last night (it was supposed ot happen on Thursday). Which would have been fine, except that last night was Nashville Cares, where 30% of participating restaurant profits are donated to AIDS research. So we were slammed, short-handed, and had a new menu. We were only supposed to be taking reservation for 6 and 8 pm, so we could do 2 seatings (we only have 14 tables), but while I was out Sunday and Monday, the bartender took 4 reservations for 7 pm and didn’t write down phone numbers for any of them. ACK! One of the waitresses just broke up with her boyfriend and kept running into the bathroom to cry. The good news is, many, many upcoming nights at the restaurant will seem fabulous in comparison to that.
Currently on the main page at Free Will Astrology is a picture that my mom had a huge print of when I was little. Whenever I was sick, I would sleep in her bed instead of mine and spend hours staring at it a wondering where I needed to go to to look outside the edges of the universe. Which possibly explains a lot about how I think. Anyway I went over there to check out my horoscope which is interesting, though not full of the potential relevations one would hope for right before their birthday. Especially since I feel like I’m already doing the things listed in it.
I look mostly cute today: pointy black shoes, black cropped pants, white blouse, black and blue necklace. My hair still looks good, though I feel puffy and greasy and I don’t have any make-up on. Blech. Speaking of, is anyone using any brand of the powdered mineral make-up? Do you like it?
I was listening to the Descendents on the way to work today (Everything Sucks, probably not the best thing to cheer myself up with) and thinking about relationships. I swear, at the rate I’m going, batting about .100 in relationships, I expect I’ll end up marrying the first guy to send me flowers at work. Or really the first guy to send me flowers that aren’t bought from a convenience store. God, I can’t believe I just typed that. Seriously, I’m feeling like PMS levels of patheticness today, even though that isn’t the case.