She brought a cake to our department this morning, and there's nothing like starting Friday morning off with THE MOST AMAZING STRAWBERRY CAKE ON PLANET EARTH. You could want to throw yourself into traffic and die, and that cake would make everything better.
So I dutifully picked up a piece of it, and was delighting in its rapturous flavor. E, my "across the street" neighbor*, got herself a piece, too. She had never tried it before, apparently. She took a bite, and I watched to see the bliss that would most assuredly be crossing her face.
"I don't like it," she said.
"WHAT?" I cried, appalled.
"I like the frosting, but I don't really like the cake."
And before I could utter another syllable, she THREW HER ENTIRE PIECE OF CAKE IN THE TRASH.
I nearly screamed in pain.
"E!" I yelled. "You could have given that to me!"
"But I picked at it!"
"Not the whole thing!"
"But I didn't like it!"
I scoffed. "E, that was like watching somebody throw a baby over a cliff."
I got another piece to eat in memoriam of the Cake That Was Lost.
The girl that's training me in my new position has grown tired of watching me constantly scratch this one spot on my arm, so she wrapped it up in bandages and tape so I can't get to it. The whole ordeal took about fifteen minutes and two people working together. And too much Benadryl anti-itch stuff. So now I can't really bend my arm, is what I'm trying to say.
I went to yoga yesterday and it made me feel a lot better. I'm going to try and go this weekend, too.
THERE'S NO WORK ON JULY 4TH!!! I GET TO STAY HOME AND SIT ON MY BUTT AND GET PAID FOR IT. It is a sweet deal. I love this job.
Today in my lj history:
Something I found amusing! And Anne calling me a whore! I can't believe the amount I used to call my friends whores, you guys, for serious.
A surreal moment in radio history!
I kind of hate myself for having to had make this post. (Was that grammatically correct? I really can't remember.)
*She's in the cubicle directly across from me, you see. IT'S CLEVER!