At least once a week I make something new.
Wednesday I went all out and made homemade cookies and a spicy fish thing.
Thursday morning I walked into work and started puking my guts out within an hour. I opened alone and no one was interested in coming to help me so I ran between the bathroom and customers for a good 4 hours. That sounds worse than it was. The mall I work in is always dead so really I only had to talk to around 13 people in that 4 hours and I only almost dry heaved on one.
I was a little annoyed when I called the manager and said, "I really hate to do this to you, but I just threw up and I REALLY dont think Im going to make it through the day."
Him: "Oh. Well, *other employee* comes in at 11."
Me: "No, she left a note saying she isnt going to be here till 12:30 or 1."
Him: "Ohh... well, can you stay?"
Me: "I dont have a choice do I? Im leaving when she gets here."
Him: "Uhh, I guess thats ok."
Later Mo picked me up and we took turns running to the bathroom. We narrowed the sickness down to the fish I made...mostly because Mo ate 5 cookies the next day and didnt get sick again.
On a less icky note, even though Mo bought me a new computer back in Nov I have been very reluctant to make it MINE yet. My two babies died within 3 months of each other. The only thing left of them is one external backup hard drive. Ive spent 4 months sharing a computer with Mo and using his preferences because it was HIS computer.
Having a new computer all my own is a new special concept. I havent done anything to it but change my browser to Chrome because I didnt want to ruin the shinny (and I was a little afraid that I forgot how to run a computer on my own and it might explode in my hands).
I just recently decided I needed to update my Ipod. That means I need to update my playlist. THAT means I need to download things...so I might as well give up and customize my computer.
I cant be the only one that thinks customizing a new computer is a little sexual?
Your computer is all new and good and innocent, then you come along and play with it. You dress it up in a new background, teach it new tricks, and when its fabulous you have to worry about it going out and getting a damn disease... the little slut.