Traffic Tetris

I drive too fast, and not very well, according to those who know me.  It's likely true, at least the "fast" part but I've been blessed by the gods with very few speeding tickets (knock wood), although I've been stopped for speeding and walked away with a seatbelt citation instead (see Double Standards).  I also drive a sizeable vehicle, not some little hard-to-see and hard-to-see-out-of compact car, and have a decent commute back and forth to my job on an interstate. The number of collisions I've had is one, in all my years of driving.  Near misses don't count, using the horseshoes and handgrenades theory.

One night, I had a co-worker from out of town follow me on the interstate so we could go to a show.  Cognizant of the need for him to both keep up and keep me in sight, I refrained from my usual driving pattern.  It made the trip long and frustrating, and I commented to my colleague that I hated "not using ALL the lanes" when I drove.  He looked at me oddly and I had to explain.

Being "That Girl"

A couple of weeks ago, I was on Crackbook and a friend from school started a chat session with me.  Turns out she's started seeing a guy I dated back in high school.  We had a chuckle together, I told her he was always a very sweet guy, I was glad to hear he had divorced his crazy-ass wife and - if it wasn't too weird - tell him I said hello.  She said she would, and we promised to get together soonish for dinner and drinks and that was that.

But being DT and loving time alone in my head, I started to wonder how it came up that he and I had dated.  Maybe she saw me listed as a Mutual Friend on Crackbook.  But in turn that made me think about me, my current relationship with some of my exes, and The Past.

Double Standards

A couple of months ago, we had a party at work. Now, my work is known for throwing parties. We're a partying bunch, and we're a drinking bunch, so it should have been no surprise when - following a celebratory dinner in the office dining hall - some of my colleagues and I decided we just MUST finish off all the open bottles of table wine.

We're also a fairly responsible bunch, so the finishing-of-the-table-wine was followed by the sort of deep and profound solve-the-problems-of-the-world conversations that wine can fuel.  In our case it was more solve-the-problems-of-the-organization, but still...  The kitchen crew, in their inestimable wisdom, took away our wine glasses and brought out glasses of water and airpots of coffee.  The evening progressed.

Grown Ups At Work

I manage a group of people.  If you only know me from here and from my Facebook identity, you might find that a hoot. Hysteria notwithstanding, I do manage people.  I'm supposed to be a responsible adult, the grown-up in the room.

I've been interviewing lately to fill a new position on my team.  It's been interesting, to say the least, because my staff is composed entirely of young men (ah, ya dirty perverts, it's not like that...). I'm faced with trying to find a new employee that has all the requisite skills, and yet won't likely be horribly offended by the rowdy locker room atmosphere of our group.

Keep your bodily functions to yourself

Dear Sperm Donor,

It is NOT the highlight of my day to walk in encumbered by both a large, heavy bag of groceries and my laptop case only to be serenaded by your ass explosions and grunts because you are taking a dump with the bathroom door open.

Nor is it the highlight of my day to have that magical sound and visual accompanied by the rancid stench of your efforts while I try to round up something to eat after the meeting I went to about our school system.

Oh, and thanks so much for NOT saving me some dinner, assclown.

Love,

DT