I’m not going to lie. Sometimes brunch with the girls gets weird.
I’m not built for corporate culture.
Before you all start rolling your eyes, I recognize most people don’t say, “ooh la la! management seminars!” But people do pay for management seminars. And people do buy the books about management techniques they learn at the management seminars. People do like that stuff. And some people do thrive in corporate environments.
I’m not one of those people. Number one: I don’t like break rooms. They’re where you have to figure out how to circumvent the guy standing in front of the microwave waiting for his toasted bagel so you can microwave your breakfast burrito. And let’s establish one thing: he won’t move until you ask him to. Despite standing one foot from him, breakfast burrito in hand. Despite making eye contact and smiling as if to say, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t notice me, but now you’ve noticed me, so I’ll wait here while you get out my way, for you see I have breakfast burrito in hand.” He’ll probably just think you’re flirting.
I wasn’t much of a gardener till recently, and even now, I think I’m better described as “woman making increasingly aggressive plant choices.” Or “woman with watering can, and everlasting hope for strawberries.”
But this year, has felt very much like gardening and less like being pleasantly surprised when it rains and things grow. Regardless of this improvement, for the four years I’ve had the space for a container garden, I’ve always felt like there was a distinct point in the summer where the plants revolt. The tomatoes get sick. The dahlias stop blooming. The strawberries start invading nearby pots because that’s a thing that strawberries do, evidently!
It’s like they know that all I’ve got going for me is my comfy pants collection and killer singing voice. Gardener schmardener.
Truth be told, It’s almost September. Which means it’s almost Fall. Which means it’s almost the season we don’t talk about. Which means my patio garden is probably starting to wind down.
Which means I was all the more surprised when I noticed my lone okra plant starting to do something.
I planted the okra months ago in a pot shared by my snap pea “crops.” And due to some faulty netting and some chipmunks who need a chipmunk tailor because they are too big for their chipmunk britches (this sentence was worth it), the pot was gutted. I thought nothing was coming back, so I let the marigolds take over.
May your weekend bring you crowns, coffee, and donuts the size of small children.
I’m not a stoic person.
When I stub my toe, you will hear my feelings about it.
When I’m having a bad hair day, you best believe I’m going to pout about it. Because really, hair, for once, in the great “to frizz or not to frizz” debate, pick not to frizz! YOU DON’T ALWAYS HAVE TO FRIZZ!
I’m mad that as a person with crohns disease, I have ill effects if I eat cheese all day, which is eternal plan A for how I want to spend my day. But my crohns is fine enough that I can get away with eating cheese for most of the day, so victory is mine!