Monday, October 10, 2005

I'd always expect something like that from you, Ariel...

So Saturday night I was involved in a dinner party with a few near and dears. We were lamenting something, perhaps the circumstances under which I broke my foot... and I said that, really, it was rather tragic as I had no brilliant story to go along with the event. I stepped off the curb wrong, and that was that. Lame start, lame end, and finally, lame foot.

One of my friends pointed out that she was suprised by this... considering the crazy things that happen to me in my life.

I started thinking about this... do crazy things really happen to me all that often? It doesn't seem that way to me, but perhaps I'm the one with the misconception. That said, I relish good stories. I just love to have a new mad-cap thing that happened at work or to someone I know that I can pass along to amuse the troops. Does my affinity for things like this lead others to believe that I lead an international life of mystery? Because, to me, it all seems pretty pedestrian.

As an example, I will outline my weekend for you.

Friday: I worked at the Employment Guide until round about 3:30, went and got some food, ate it, went by the bank, talked to my mom for an hour on the phone, got ready for work, left home, went to work, worked at Starbucks until about 1:30am, then drive home, and went to bed around 2:30am.

Saturday: Got up around 9:15, showered, took the streetcar down to the Farmers Market where Devon and I bought some lovely Bosc pears for our cobbler/crisp that night, bought some flowers, went down to Pioneer Square to hear David sing harmony for the group "Per Se," heard Pt. Juncture, WA and bought their EP, walked up to Powells, bought a Spanish grammar refresher book, walked up to Freddies, bought a few things for that night, walked up to NW 23rd to the liquor store, walked home, speed-cleaned the house, threw together the cobbler, got dressed, met up with James and Celeste, then went and had our Progressive Dinner Party. We finished that up around 12:30-1am, Devo and I drove James home, then went and drove around the city for a while (gorgeous fall night), went to bed around 2:30 exhausted.

Sunday: Got up around 11, picked up a book I'd been reading lately and wanted to bust out, read a ton of that, cooked breakfast (eggs and leftover cake!), showered, went an spent a few hours with David and Emily, came home, completed a few exercizes in my new grammar book, fell asleep in the cooshy chair, woke up around 10pm, watched the news, got up and put away a ton of laundry, went to bed around 1am, fell asleep closer to 2am.

And thus, here I am today, at the office as usual, trying to stay awake and alive, despite the fact that I left my bagel on the counter at home, and our boss came back three days early from his vacation (Embarassment! I wore jeans to work today, thinking he was out until Wednesday. BOO.)

What's on the agenda for a Monday?

Ariel, in her role as the A/R goddess of the EG has to:

Fax some deposit reports to Home Office...
Complete a few detail aging reports to distribute throughout the office...
Complete my weekly aging report and flag the clients I need to call this week...
Compile the newspaper mailers to send to the other cities...
Make a few important, immediate A/R calls...

No deposit today, since it is Columbus day. No mail today since it is a holiday.

Go home around 1:30pm, scarf some lunch (remember? I forgot my bagel!), do some dishes, take a brief nap, finish my closet project from the night before, then do some Spanish grammar, apply for a job or two, and get ready to ride my bike down to Starbucks--it'll be the first time since the broken foot that I'll have ridden it! I'm so excited!! I work from 8pm-12am, and then I pedal home, go to bed, and get ready for Tuesday!

And who said I had anything but the average pedestrian life?

3 comments:

Purple Hat said...

I hate mondays. I think it is not fair that we should have to work, while the post office and bank is closed. Rubbish I tell you. I's much rather be at home, on my couch eating cheezits.

Emily said...

Ariel! I forgot my lunch today too! It's like the vengeful ghost of Cristobal Colombe is getting back at us for all that talk about how he is an imperialist pig for enslaving and killing all those native peoples. Oh Cristobal! What won't you do?

A. said...

Emily-- it wouldn't shock me in the least! Right up there with enslaving the natives, he believed that the "New World" was an Eden of milk and honey, located at the top of the world, at the center of which was a mountain that spewed milk and the goodness of the world like a giant lactating mammary. Oh, if only he and Freud had had the chance to meet and talk. I will look up the book that I have about Senor Colombe from my Latin American History course for you. There is some nutty stuff in there. He was one crazy mo-fo.