In my version, though, it's only people I really like, and know. And we chat and laugh like always when we get together, we just do it in better clothes.

Yes, this is good. And if you combine it with the lavish afternoon tea, it's splendid!

And it's hard on 11:00, so I'm for bed. ~ma of all kinds!

The bathroom was where it was suggested I pump when I came back from maternity leave. I promptly asked my boss if she was going to bring her lunch into the adjoining stall and eat there with me.

good on you, Aimee. In California at least I thought they were legally obliged to provide you with a private place to pump that *wasn't* a toilet. Don't know how that translates to testing one's blood sugar. Can you test at your own desk?

Let the shallow work bitching commence! I used to be in a dept with a woman who was very competitive with me. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't me. She is now in another dept here. A new person just started working for me in my dept and Ms. Competitive (MC) has latched onto her. Now I have to hear about and see MC all the time. MC now knows of my plans to go to grad school so is now telling new co-worker that she is going to do that, too. It is so annoying. MC also has a very nasty habit of backstabbing behavior so I'm also concerned about what she is telling new co-worker. I know I have to let it go but it's hard. I haven't (and won't) say a word about MC to this new person. It's disconcerting to have them be so chummy right away, though. GRRR.

Today I got a See's catalog in the mail. The only reason I'm on their mailing list is that Dad liked their stuff, and I used to send it to him for Father's Day or his birthday sometimes.

So I'm sad. Not heartbroken, sobbing my eyes out sad, just an odd little twist of wistfulness mixed in to a very ordinary day.

Oh Susan, that sucks.

Maybe you could order what he liked and eat it and feel better?

It's just one of those things, I guess. Sort of like when I read a book I think he'd like and still automatically think, "OK, now I know what to get him for Christmas."

Susan, that's like my mother's subscription to "Cook's Illustrated." I gave it to her for Christmas a number of years ago. She liked it and kept renewing it. Once she died and it came up for renewal, my brother renewed it and it just keeps coming to the house. I don't think my brother ever makes anything from it, but it's a bit of a connection he can still hold onto. And I do go over and mine ideas for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners from it, so it is still useful, if not used the way my mother would have used it.

Susan, how does this sound?

I am writing in response to your need for a Member Service Associate.

While my resume is strong in Accounting experience, all of my positions have included varying degrees of customer service. I have had to speak with vendors on the phone regarding our accounts with them and tenants or clients regarding their accounts with us. I enjoy working with people and am very outgoing and friendly.

I also have approximately seven years experience in retail situations, and I know how to diffuse difficult situations that sometimes arise with customers. I am the mother of a ten month old, so my patience has been tested quite a bit lately, and has greatly expanded.

On a personal note, I have been to the YMCA as a guest several times, and I enjoy the environment. I am close in location and the weekend hours are perfect for me as I do work during the week. I would embrace an opportunity to work for the organization.

Please feel free to call me for an interview. I believe that I could be a great addition to the team. I can be reached during the day at xxxx or in the evenings at xxxx.

Thank you so much for your time. I look forward to hearing from you.

Oh, Susan, that is sad. I can kind of relate. I see things to get my Dad for Christmas or his birthday, but then I remember that he can't play golf or read or... anymore because of his strokes.

Not Susan, but I'd change the start of the third paragraph to something like:

"My seven years of retail experience have taught me how to diffuse difficult..."