Musings from a work day

Boy that was a really pretentious subject.

 

First, I need to say that of course the day I decide to wear a sweater to defend against the airconditioning at work is the day it A) gets really freaking hot in Chicago for literally the first time this ENTIRE year and B) the air conditioning breaks.  And, idiot that I am it is not a cardigan.  It is a v-neck cotton sweater.  Long sleeved!  So, yeah.  I am warm.

 

Two, a good forty-five minutes of my day was spent rearranging the labels on the mail cubbies, so that everyone has one and that they are now back in alphabetical order.  Seriously, that was my job today.  Tomorrow I will get paid to eat a burrito.  Not joking.  That is lunch for the Friday meeting.

 

Third, although I do not understand most of the technical nerdery that goes on at my work daily, I do know how to work a fax machine.  This might make me unique in this office.  I can also handle things like googling customer service numbers and mastering the label maker.  Again, particular skills I seem to be the only one who can handle, and I did not even go to MIT like some of my coworkers.  I know this is astounding.

 

Fourth, last night I had one single margarita--not even a giant sized one, and it must have been made with rotgut tequila because it single handedly gave me a bit of a hangover headache this morning.

 

Fifth, new in my education of grown-upness (and I completely have Sam to thank for this) is that ordering food from a steak house is very complicated.  Our third date was at a steak house as was Valentine's day and then we ate at Craftsteak when we were in NYC.  And I am very unfamiliar (or was, now getting it down) with the order your meat, order your sides, order your salad all separate like.  It makes things very complicated.  I also never know quite what to do.  Because that can add up.  The first time I had no idea what was happening and erred on the side of eating an entire dinner consisting only of meat, which was, admittedly, weird.  The second time, our server was much better at his job because he knew to try and get as much food on our plates as possible, and he explained things very well.  Plus it was like not a regular date, it was VALENTINE'S date, so I figured Sam planned a little bit to drop some dough.  The third time was Craftsteak, and we knew it was going to be kind of a wallet blow out, but it was also probably going to be the best meal either of us had had in a couple of years.  So we had salads and sides and meat and dessert and a bottle of wine and a glass of cava with dessert.  We did it for real.  Also, thank god I had learned about steak houses before that or I would have felt like even more of an idiot than I already did.  Turns out I am not used to the FINE dining experience and certainly not the NYC version of it.  The FINE dining restaurants Sam and I favor here tend to be more eclectic and independent and younger and hipper.  So they have people in jeans serving you and less with the ties and long white aprons.

 

Sixth, I think that is all I have for right now.  Back to the grind.