Now that it's December, the three TVs in the lobby of my office building are playing Christmas movies and the Yule log. I love it.
This morning I put on a new striped sweater that I hadn't worn before. Linda assured me it looked good.
"I don't look too much like Freddy Krueger?"
"No, he had his own set of issues."
"Well, so do I. Which is why I want to check I don't look like him."
"No, you don't have scissor hands."
Also, no weird burny scar face or dapper hat.
I was at the grocery store this morning before work and saw some garlic that wants to be something else when it grows up:
Speaking of the grocery store, I do stop there frequently on my way to work. It's a good time to go if I'm getting non-perishables or stuff for work. They usually have one check stand open, and then someone standing at the "self check out" area to help.Which - if you need help doing "self check out," then it's not "self," right? Anyway, I caved on doing it once, but hate it because it's inconvenient for me and involves too much thinking - usually I'm buying fruits and veggies, so it's not as simple as just scanning a barcode; it involves looking up the right item manually, and I just don't want to. So there was one checkstand with a light on, indicating it was open. I headed there, and got sidelined by a "helpful" employee:
"Good morning, would you like to go to self check out?"
"Um, no thank you. I don't like it. Can't I just go here?" indicating the one check out lane with the lit light signifying its openness. She wasn't happy with me, because it wasn't manned and she had to call for "John" to come take his post.Whatever, Ralphs lady. I'm paying you for groceries - I shouldn't have to do your job for you too.
But the sparkly European trees I saw on the way out made me laugh:
Clearly there is more sparkly glitter in European soil than American.