My soon to be ex craxy employers are most definitely coming to a sad conclusion. Things like "we haven't talked about half the things you do as a matter of course for five years! Have they changed much? How do you do that and all the new stuff? How is X going to do it all?" and my personal favorite "what if we need help on a weekend?".

Bwahahaha! Oh, I hope you get the chance to provide your services to them as a consultant once you've left, for a gazillion dollars an hour, as they flounder around in excrement creek sans paddle.

"what if we need help on a weekend?".

Mad cackling ensued.

BWAH!

I'm 41-- when I tell people, they don't believe it.

Irony is, I look better at 41 than I did in my late 20s/early 30s, so I'm perfectly fine admitting it. My mother, on the other hand, tries to lie about my age all the time.

38, feel mid-late 20s.

Why am I awake at 4:21 AM????

I'm 41, and I got carded at the liquor store last Saturday. For whatever that's worth.

There's a line on the BRQG, about JM. Something along the lines of:

It's better to admit to 39 and have people go "Wow, really?" than claim 25 and have people say, "Huh. That smack habit really adds the years, doesn't it?"

I like that philosophy.

I've never been carded in my life.

I feel as if I've missed out on something. What, exactly, I can't tell you. But something.

I've been carded once - they looked at me with my hair going white and said store policy was to card everyone. I'm 56 now. sigh.

In other WTF news, oh dear.

36. People are always surprised.

OH, Toddson. That made my day. Hee. Which I need to get started in a few minutes.

We have a meeting starting at 8:00 am - the monthly one that runs ALL DAY. argh

My liquor store cards everyone. As a matter of fact, they scan your driver's license with every purchase.

GC, GO TO BED, if you haven't yet. Sleep=good!

I just called out of work and school. I feel like such a schmuck. No sleep, increased depression, and this illness are combining to play havoc on my brain. I am totally beating myself up about it all. I'm trying to stop. Really. But, I feel terrible about work because the two principals are out dealing with their mothers' deaths, and they're usually who cover me. So, the teachers have to cover, and I hate doing that to them. And at school I was supposed to make-up an exam that I keep pushing off. I actually called the prof so he could hear me, because I really thought he might go off if I just sent him an e-mail.