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to the woman in the bathroom at work who insists on talking to whomever it is on the phone while both she and we are doing stuff on the toilet:

i know that you have a high-stress level job, where minimal breaks are permitted. but COME ON.

not cool.

at least wait until you’re finished.

love, ME


hello there readers (or should i say thank god you’re reading this because i’m sure i lost most everyone’s interest in the transition i like to call “not not working anymore” – or “living with your spouse but not seeing them anymore” – and finally “living apart from your spouse but seeing them much more”).

so i wanted to write a post. in fact, i felt i owed it at least to myself to write a post. i feel like i dove in to this blog with all eyes on deck (ask mike some day about how many metaphors i confuse or just completely botch up in one sitting. it’s staggering.), and since the job finding and starting, also known as the 5 million hours of commuting every day, this blog has been rather silent.

yes, so i WANTED to write a post. and i’ve finally settled down in my new digs in philly long enough to have the TIME to post. but i have just been drawing a complete effing blank as to what to write about. sure, stuff’s been happening in life, but none of it seems even the least bit amusing.

or, rephrased, none of the stuff i’m allowed to talk to you about seems amusing.

why would i subject you to such boredom or depression?

yeah. i don’t know, either.

but i do want to keep up the blog. i find this to be such a great outlet for my frustration and weird humor (i get blank stares at the office more than i’d like to admit when i say something “funny”). and, let’s face it, sometimes i get a kick out of myself.

so i’m bridging the plunge, i’m taking the gap. i’m starting here and now and today so i start from somewhere…even if this post is about nothing. and i have noticed that it is.

now. let the funny pour out.


miss me?

i sure missed you!

now. down to business.

this post has two very different topics, but one unifying theme:

i am a transit commuter.

first: if i can’t remember that i need (fill in the blank) by six forty-five in the morning, i’m so totally SOL. like, for instance, oh, i don’t know, maybe the key to my desk that unlocks every drawer and cabinet storing ALL OF MY WORK?

yeah, hello monday morning.

because i’m so far away from home now, besides acting as a standard work desk and briefcase, my desk drawers and work bag look like a medicine cabinet and food pantry. i have enough supplies to be prepared for armageddon.

one supply i do not yet have on my person: desk drawer spare key.

note. to. self.

second: i have two new and very unwelcome friends. i don’t know their names, nor do I ever want to. they are two middle-aged women that show up EVERY MORNING in the middle of my commute. and they insist on sitting next to me EVERY MORNING at 7:30 am and chat very loudly to each other about the most depressing topics. probably the most depressing stuff that has ever been discussed in the history of morning train rides ever. EVER.

no matter where i’m sitting (and believe me, i have tried to move around and lose this crew. i can’t.) they spot me, and seeing that they have successfully identified their assigned seats, (for the uninitiated we don’t have assigned seats) they plop right down.

so let me break down why this horribly depressing morning train ride talk isn’t my cup of tea; it does seem to warrant further explanation.

first of all, i have never been, nor am i now, despite my insanely early commuting schedule, a morning person. i don’t chat, and i don’t care to hear chatter. i am a horribly insufficient human being in this regard. and forget it if i haven’t had my morning coffee for some reason. oh my god.

secondly, and definitely more importantly, i object to their talking points being dispayed so openly in public. they are seriously none of anyone else’s business. i have heard about how their neighbor was shot, and how their spouse had to be wheeled around in a wheelchair at hershey park, dragging the whole family down so that they weren’t able to ride all of the rides. i have heard about their drug addicted children going to rehab, and their friends’ drug addicted children who died of an overdose even after going to rehab.

seriously. this is too much for 7:30 in the morning.

and what can I do? politely lift my head up from my iphone (iphone!) and say, “excuse me, ladies? get a room.”

it’s almost amusing to reflect on what I was missing before i had a new job, sitting on my couch, trying to figure out what to do for the next two hours before oprah came on.

i definitely recently said i wouldn’t talk about work. where i work, who i work with, etc. and this post, even though it involves an activity that i am currently required to do because of work, does honor that initial statement…technically. here’s why (don’t you just love when the defensive part of the post comes first?):

what i’m about to talk about deals with the training i am currently taking, and not at all about my job, or any of the people that i work with. truly. i promise.

now, having said that, HOLY COW. what a treat, or terrifying nightmare, this training has been so far. i just can’t decide.

so for the past two days, plus tomorrow, plus two days next week, i have been and will be surrounded by a bunch of super macho, manly men types.  that description looks so puny when it’s typed out. ok. how to explain? dig down REAL deep, and just imagine the most testosterone that you think i could ever handle, i’m talking at like at my maximum capacity here, and you are imagining my wednesday, thursday, and future of friday of this week.

naturally i assumed everyone in the room was going to hate me. look, it may sound inappropriately self-deprecating, but i’ve got a weirdo haircut, an iphone (iphone!), and i am not what anyone would ever assume as a card carrying member of the nra. it seems appropriate that this particular crowd might hate me. (and while i am actually getting along quite well with some of these folks to my great surprise, others, as anticipated, do hate me.)

so as to not add to this list of “reasons why april is not a desirable student and workmate in this particular environment,” i decided to keep my mouth shut, and not laugh out loud when listening to the FANTASTIC amount of material that was coming from these people. i’m nothing if not courteous.

but i did make sure to write it all down to share with you folks.

this first one is for mike, and for all the rest of you out there who have this particular pet peeve: the main instructor for the course says with pride, “these three days are going to literally fly by.”

a person’s last name in an example the instructor was giving was ‘mantooth.’ he he. MAN. TOOTH. that’s just silly.

says one macho to another, “do you know of any place where i can find and buy a lot of ammunition?…for personal use. i’m talking about  A LOT of ammunition. like thousands of rounds?”

the instructor tells us as a compliment, “anyone of us coming into a situation is a toolbox.” twenty minutes later, “we are all great toolboxes.” ten minutes later, “you are a toolbox.”

“shoot the big gun early.” — that one just sounds dirty.

and finally, coming from the same guy who boasts about doing some very unethical things involving  making brown people who work for him pose as terrorists at work (yeah, that shit just got wrote down), says today: “i’ve had so much sexual harassment training, i’m an expert at sexual harassment.”

my world has gone into a weird topsey-turvey spiral. i started a job. i commute 4 hours every day now. i got into a car accident on wednesday. there are millions of things to talk about. but here’s what i’ll say first:

so i’m not actually going to go into much detail about my first days of work at my new  job (job, job, job.). i’ve decided that i’m not really going to go into too many specifics on anything, like friends’ last names, and even first names, etc., here on this blog.

come on: it’s the world wide internets. too many people have access, and i’m from the south where we keep things all nice and bottled up, and just mind your own durn business, would ya?

but as i was sitting and reflecting on my first day of work, the funniest thing struck me. so of course i had to diagram it.

degrees of

six degrees! (or is that five?) hot dog. i’ve totally made it.