"Don't Sweat the [MINISCULE] Stuff"
I hate cold, rainy days. Hate them. Unless I'm napping...which I can't feasibly do at my desk. So I'm stuck (being sleepy) in an upright position.
Yesterday, Jenn and I interviewed a possible intern candidate for this semester...she was a super girl and we're going to hire her on...but it's weird. I feel like an imposter. It felt like just the other day that I was the intern. Now I'll be overseeing one. (Before you know it, I'll be saying "young hooligans" every other sentence.)
Speaking of crotchety adults, my landlord is dancing on my last nerve. We've had to put up with alot from that side of the house: fighting...bouts of drinking...moving out with furniture...incessant knocking on our door. And I've been patient. Admirably patient...until this weekend.
Jennie and I went out Friday night, had a good time, and *gasp* forgot to turn off the front porch light upon our arrival home. So the little thing burned all night. The next morning, said landlord is perusing the property and sees the offending light. AND HE CAN'T BELIEVE WE'D BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE. He bangs on the door--and is so concerned--that he immediately lets himself in to turn the damn thing off. Apologies were offered and we thought the episode ended there.
The next day, we hear clattering sounds on the porch and open the door to find him switching our (perfectly good) lightbulb out for an energy-saving fluorescent bulb.
Because we obviously can't be trusted with regular wattage.
Every fiber in my body was poised to knock his ladder out from under him and run. But we settled for slamming the door in his face. Gah, I'm getting pissed just thinking about it. I mean, MY GOD. Being that concerned with a little over-used lightbulb might just be God's way of saying that you need a life/hobby/better personality/job/counseling session.
Yesterday, Jenn and I interviewed a possible intern candidate for this semester...she was a super girl and we're going to hire her on...but it's weird. I feel like an imposter. It felt like just the other day that I was the intern. Now I'll be overseeing one. (Before you know it, I'll be saying "young hooligans" every other sentence.)
Speaking of crotchety adults, my landlord is dancing on my last nerve. We've had to put up with alot from that side of the house: fighting...bouts of drinking...moving out with furniture...incessant knocking on our door. And I've been patient. Admirably patient...until this weekend.
Jennie and I went out Friday night, had a good time, and *gasp* forgot to turn off the front porch light upon our arrival home. So the little thing burned all night. The next morning, said landlord is perusing the property and sees the offending light. AND HE CAN'T BELIEVE WE'D BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE. He bangs on the door--and is so concerned--that he immediately lets himself in to turn the damn thing off. Apologies were offered and we thought the episode ended there.
The next day, we hear clattering sounds on the porch and open the door to find him switching our (perfectly good) lightbulb out for an energy-saving fluorescent bulb.
Because we obviously can't be trusted with regular wattage.
Every fiber in my body was poised to knock his ladder out from under him and run. But we settled for slamming the door in his face. Gah, I'm getting pissed just thinking about it. I mean, MY GOD. Being that concerned with a little over-used lightbulb might just be God's way of saying that you need a life/hobby/better personality/job/counseling session.
posted by Rachel at 3:59 PM
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