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random, moi?
Aug. 17th, 2008 10:35 amCould someone explain why dressing my little pupe doll is so soothing? I guess it's because she changes without snaps or velcro or whatever so she can change fifty times. On the other hand, too much is simply too much.
Dolly.
Freeee. So much so that I can't even form proper thoughts to rejoice about this. Ah, well.
Today I need to repackage that set of books and send them out again. If that stupid machine screws me over once more, sorry to the girl waiting, but I'm not spending another two bucks to send these damn things after that.
If I'm feeling generous, I should clean the table with the printer and the scanner [that doesn't work with kid sister, woe!] off. Break out the cleaning spray and all. Which I might do... now, while I ponder the weirdness that is really liking and respecting someone, but wondering whether they truly do not see the way they're being a hypocrite or if they do. If they do, fine. If not, then you wonder if maybe they're insane.
For the record, I frequently realize I'm being one. I either flaunt it to be obnoxious or attempt to change. But I tend to know.
Oh, and now for a moment with what the hell is wrong with you people:
The Walgreens I work in isn't a tiny little hole in the wall, but it's not huge either. As soon as you walk through the door, you're practically on top of the front/head register. Directly across from said register is the cartwell. You know, where the carts go. They're set up so you push them in when you're done shopping and are checking out, yet people are forever leaving their cart in the line. DUDE. To your right, less than a foot away, is where the damn thing goes! I have to walk all the way out from behind the register counter, around the counter again, and then shove the damn thing in... all while you had to walk past it to get out the door anyway. The day I quit, I'm stockpiling a bunch of those stuffed balls and throwing them at people who don't have a damn good excuse for putting their carts away OR taking them outside. [I have no problem with people who take their cart out and leave it. Go on, have fun.] People with excuses would be those with a kid or two in tow [it makes it difficult to juggle if there's a baby or a toddler involved], or who obviously have a health issue. Age, however, is not really a health issue. PUT YOUR DAMN CART AWAY, OLD PEOPLE! And other lazy people, too.
To make up for the utter crap that is this entry, we shall admire the pretty eyecandy. Also, totally going to hell for this, but this is how I picture Bella and Jacob, after awhile. Only without the mind numbing headaches that Bella causes. :p
Dolly.
Freeee. So much so that I can't even form proper thoughts to rejoice about this. Ah, well.
Today I need to repackage that set of books and send them out again. If that stupid machine screws me over once more, sorry to the girl waiting, but I'm not spending another two bucks to send these damn things after that.
If I'm feeling generous, I should clean the table with the printer and the scanner [that doesn't work with kid sister, woe!] off. Break out the cleaning spray and all. Which I might do... now, while I ponder the weirdness that is really liking and respecting someone, but wondering whether they truly do not see the way they're being a hypocrite or if they do. If they do, fine. If not, then you wonder if maybe they're insane.
For the record, I frequently realize I'm being one. I either flaunt it to be obnoxious or attempt to change. But I tend to know.
Oh, and now for a moment with what the hell is wrong with you people:
The Walgreens I work in isn't a tiny little hole in the wall, but it's not huge either. As soon as you walk through the door, you're practically on top of the front/head register. Directly across from said register is the cartwell. You know, where the carts go. They're set up so you push them in when you're done shopping and are checking out, yet people are forever leaving their cart in the line. DUDE. To your right, less than a foot away, is where the damn thing goes! I have to walk all the way out from behind the register counter, around the counter again, and then shove the damn thing in... all while you had to walk past it to get out the door anyway. The day I quit, I'm stockpiling a bunch of those stuffed balls and throwing them at people who don't have a damn good excuse for putting their carts away OR taking them outside. [I have no problem with people who take their cart out and leave it. Go on, have fun.] People with excuses would be those with a kid or two in tow [it makes it difficult to juggle if there's a baby or a toddler involved], or who obviously have a health issue. Age, however, is not really a health issue. PUT YOUR DAMN CART AWAY, OLD PEOPLE! And other lazy people, too.
To make up for the utter crap that is this entry, we shall admire the pretty eyecandy. Also, totally going to hell for this, but this is how I picture Bella and Jacob, after awhile. Only without the mind numbing headaches that Bella causes. :p