Monday morning I brought more cakies in to work because funfetti had been special requested. About an hour in to work, one of the guys came down from the 7th floor. I saw him eyeing my desk, and after a few minutes he walked over to me and said, “Hey are you the one who bakes these all the time? They’re so good. It’s like there’s crack in here or something! Can I have one?” I love that people have to ask me if they can have them. Duh. And, thanks for the compliment.
This day was also a mess. I was out running around getting copies made, and it didn’t help that the zombie apocalypse was occurring in Union Square. I wish that was a joke. There were crazy people with their eyes rolling in the back of their heads, foaming at the mouth. I know they were just on drugs, but it seemed like the whole thing was a huge issue. I scared my sister by telling her about it. She told me to avoid Union Square. Yeah right.
It’s unfortunate that I have gotten so behind on the blog that I can’t tell you a single other thing about what happened on this day.
Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday!
Right out of the subway and on the street corner, some old French lady asked me where the med center was. Good thing I had been paying attention randomly one day the week prior and realized there WAS a med center in Union Square. I pointed her in the right direction and kept moving, thinking “Is it odd that people are always asking me for directions when I have no real direction in my life?”
It was Mikey’s birthday, but he was also moving apartments that day and had to leave early. So, since both of the interns upstairs were busy, I ran out to get a cake and a card for him. Another issue was that they normally got ice cream cakes, but not a single ice cream cake was chocolate free (Mikey is allergic)… Oh, and Mikey is lactose intolerant. So, I bought a teeny-weeny white cake. He was really pumped about it because he said it was almost exactly like his parents’ wedding cake. And there were still leftovers that no one would consume, so I got to take it home and eat some for breakfast Wednesday. It’s not a thug life, but it IS a pig life.
The other fairly entertaining part of the day was when a new intern was leaving a bit early, and Dave told her to have fun at her event. She said, “It’s not going to be fun. I’m just going to hang out with a bunch of 30-year-olds.” Dave’s response? “Hey, I’m 30! 30 Isn’t so bad!”
BAHAHAHAHAHA. In her defense, he looks like he is 23 and dresses like he is 17. If Dave ever reads this, I hope he forgives me for that comment and hires me on the spot. He’s a great guy, but I never EVER would have guessed 30. Fountain of youth. You’re welcome, Dave.
Wednesday, July 25th. I had an appointment in Union Square. After the appointment, I went to Trader Joe’s and got some grocery shopping done. That made me feel accomplished, and I didn’t have to wait in the ungodly Trader Joe’s line until all hours of the night (Manhattan shoppers, you know what I’m talking about!). I got to the office a half hour early, which was good since it was hot as hell outside and I actually had time to cool off before anyone else entered the office. YEEEEE!
When I went to Staples, a man approached me–out of a sea of hundreds of people–and said, “Can I ask you a question?” Ok, dude. I have my sunglasses on, a pack of Sharpie markers, and I am speed walking through the crowd. Obviously I am on a mission.
“Do you live here?”
Hmmm… how to answer that? “No. Well, not really.”
“But kind of?”
“No. I am interning.”
“Oh, where are you from?”
Where the EFF did you get Ohio out of what I said?! “No, Kansas City.”
“Ah! A Kansas City girl! Kansas City… Kansas City here I come… I’m going to Kansas City…”
This guy was singing. To me. In the middle of Union Square. AND he didn’t know the right words. Run away.
I started out the day on the subway, per usual. There was a brochure on the ground about avoiding littering, which I thought was funny. Since it was on the ground. Get it? Goodness I hate how I miss most details and am actually getting any and all information from these days out of my twitter account. Pathetic, I know.
That night, I baked cinnamon apple chips in the oven. And Jess came home and wanted to gym. So I spent 70minutes doing cardio and didn’t have issues breathing. I wasn’t going at a slow pace, either. It’s so weird how I have such stamina for cardio. I’m cool with it. I’m down. This means that when I get a job–sometime in, hopefully, the near future–I will get a gym membership in whatever city I am in. Because it’s necessary for people like me, who have anger issues.
Harry Potter and the something something was on when we got back super late that night. Jess said, “I am an oily horse skeleton. I wonder if a kid was like MOM I WANNA BE A THESTRAL FOR HALLOWEEN!”