Earlier today I was in work. I was hungry. It was two pm and I hadn't eaten since ten o'clock the night before. I was straining pickles from a ginormous (that's a word?!) bucket into a smaller container. The bucket was full of pickle juice. Andy said to me, "Would you drink a cup of that pickle juice?"
I said, "Of course."
I kept straining the pickles and he laughed at me.
My manager came in. I asked him what I should do with the leftover pickle juice.
"Just drink it," he said. He was joking. I did not realize this.
When he realized I didn't realize this, he filled a smoothie cup of pickle juice. "Here you go."
I took a swig. Man! I was hungry! Man! Pickle juice is salty and delicious. I drank the whole cup in the next half hour.
I went home and ate some leftover tortellini from work.
NOW I AM DYING. Who would have thought pickle juice would make me so INCREDIBLY SICK?!?! YAY I GET TO GO BACK INTO WORK AND MOP AND THROW UP THE LOVELY PICKLE JUICE.
I HATE PICKLES.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Quoting the same man, again
And we all thought it was Emma obsessed with Milan Kundera.
“O lovers! Be careful in those dangerous first days! Once you’ve brought breakfast in bed you’ll have to bring it forever, unless you want to be accused of lovelessness and betrayal.” -Milan Kundera
This is particularly relevant to me because I am in my "dangerous first days" with Drew. I have to watch myself now. And I am. Almost neurotically. Also, I am reading a book for my Marriages and Familes class entitled False Love blahblahblah illusions about love are bad. Now, you can sort of understand the status of my mind right now.
INSANE.
Why in the world would I combine dangerous first days with a book called False Love? Who thinks this is a good idea? Not me. Not Milan. Not even Katz, probably.
And yet, here I am, assuming that every story in that book applies to me, that every thing I say is Significant and Vital.
ALSO, the sort of "History in the Making" feeling that is evident throughout the streets of Ann Arbor, and probably the rest of the US, is not helping me go through life in a very normal way.
“O lovers! Be careful in those dangerous first days! Once you’ve brought breakfast in bed you’ll have to bring it forever, unless you want to be accused of lovelessness and betrayal.” -Milan Kundera
This is particularly relevant to me because I am in my "dangerous first days" with Drew. I have to watch myself now. And I am. Almost neurotically. Also, I am reading a book for my Marriages and Familes class entitled False Love blahblahblah illusions about love are bad. Now, you can sort of understand the status of my mind right now.
INSANE.
Why in the world would I combine dangerous first days with a book called False Love? Who thinks this is a good idea? Not me. Not Milan. Not even Katz, probably.
And yet, here I am, assuming that every story in that book applies to me, that every thing I say is Significant and Vital.
ALSO, the sort of "History in the Making" feeling that is evident throughout the streets of Ann Arbor, and probably the rest of the US, is not helping me go through life in a very normal way.
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