I'm really over noncity coworkers complaining about walking through " scary" neighborhoods near work (uh, Remington. And, uh, no.) when they then ask questions that clearly indicate they've never for a second ventured off their commute, and they don't know shit about what they're talking about, it is " the city" that is scary and bad. My bitchface shut one up mid sentence.
And I just walked to and from another neighborhood wine night where we rationally discussed some of the crime issues around here and what we're actively doing about it and how much and what we love about being here. And I ate too much guacamole and brownies.
And I ate too much guacamole and brownies.
See? Cities are totes dangerous.
I wish I had brownies. Or guacamole.
I'm also vexed because my finger joints are hurting, and I don't know why, and I gave in and took ibuprofen two baking challenges ago, and they still hurt, and Dr. Google has me convinced I have some form of arthritis, or possibly finger cancer.
No. Such. Thing.
My digestive tract would disagree. Pretty sure I'll be paying tomorrow.
I hugged someone wearing a nice cologne. It's not unpleasant, but I keep getting random whiffs and its just weird.
And the guacamole burps have started.
Cindy's okay, for anyone wondering. It was a bit of a misunderstanding, that's all.
Sorry, B.org. I explained the particulars to Amy. Not ready to do so, here, but am so sorry for causing you concern.
Glad everything's OK, Cindy.
It's good to see you, Cindy. I was worried we might not see you again for a while.
