Not The Favorite

You know what sucks about working in a big open loft-type office? It’s hot in here. Really hot. I’m up on the loft part and while I look down at my now comfortably warm ground floor co-workers, I’m dying of heat. A year ago, I was one of those freezing cold ground floor employees begging for someone to turn up the heat. They said, No, the people upstairs will be too hot. I thought to myself, How can a couple of degrees make that big a difference? Sweet merciful crap. It makes a HUGE difference.

Back when I was fresh out of high school and first dating my hubby, we used to go out with one of his friends who had this thing he called “Sweating out the impurities”. Basically, when driving he would turn the heat up all the way and no matter how hot it got, he wouldn’t turn it down. Because the hotter the better to sweat out the impurities. This game was very challenging. I didn’t like playing much but what can you do when you’re not the one driving and you’re too stoned to try and turn it down yourself. By the time you get where you’re going, all you want to do is shed some clothes to get relief only to discover you now have huge nasty pit stains.
Yeah I said stoned. Like you didn't dabble in the experimentals as a teenager...

So, I’ll sit here and sip cold water, read my new MOMS training manual and hope 5 gets here asap.

What the hell is a MOMS training manual? I’m a peer volunteer for the Mothers Offering Mentorship and Support program offered by the UNB Nursing faculty. It’s a service provided as part of a study on Post Partum Depression for new moms suffering from PPD. Peer volunteers are chosen based on the fact that they have had and recovered from PPD. That’s me! Peer volunteers visit new moms with PPD to help them deal with their depression and offer assistance, be it a reference to a doctor to get medical intervention, helpful tips on how to read your baby or just an ear to talk to.

Side note: Halfway through eating my lunch today, I decide to read the ingredients on the package for my flaked turkey sandwich. As soon as I saw “mechanically separated turkey” I almost gagged. I usually plead ignorance on how meat is acquired and put into those convenient little cans and steer clear of the ingredients list. But today I just had to look. And I’ve now ruined a whole section of the grocery store for myself. I adamantly refuse to eat anything that has been mechanically separated since Jon told me one day that I was probably eating beaks and eyeballs in my chicken nuggets.

Labels: [Insert Company Name Here], Misc.