Point made.
Also, Deborah cracks me up on the cheesingme blog:
"Oh, Susannah. Sounds like someone fed you a bowl of fiesties this morning. Very funny. But, really. Like you are one to talk. I can just see you telling the interior designer where to stick it..."
She's pretty much right. Me actually speaking to my mother's interior designer letalone telling her what I think about her "designs" ("And this we call the 'Colgate Room' because of the toothpaste-esque teal walls.") Good times, good times.
I did, however, once ask the painter guy ("Inchy" as my dad calls him, because he charges by the hour and "paints with a toothbrush" as dad says) if he liked my Halloween costume. Inchy gave me an odd look. Aw, come on, dude. Giant barcode around my neck? Dressed in all brown? UPC Man! He lost his sense of funny by sniffin' all those paint fumes.
1 comment:
I am proud of you Susannah. Getting to work in spite of physical discomfort is the stuff that life is made of. Good on ya!
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