Office Work, Part Deux: Professional Mayhen

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You are so full of crap. You HATE those ladies. And their stupid snacks and petty cheese&cracker drama.

I strongly dislike a couple.... but I LOVE the cheese and crackers.

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In Minnesota in the dead of winter, you don't care about WHO is there so long as there is warm food and wine.
 
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OMG men are such jerks sometimes.

The 45 minute drive to and from work alone with him has been heavenly.......except the "with him" part

Empathy and sympathy. Excuse the following gentlemen:
We need to breed that outa them.
 
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84 hours of labor. which is why i don't tell pregnant women labor stories.

I hear from SO many people about long, agonizing labor.... thank god my doc was into induction. And epidurals.

I got yelled at because after my water broke I took a shower and went back to bed to wait until the dh had to get up and go to work. Silly woman. In retrospect I should have woke him up lots sooner. I ended up with an infection, but not until after I HAD THE PLEASURE OF WATCHING HIM EAT A HAMBURGER WHILE I WAS HAVING CONSTANT CONTRACTIONS! To top it off my doctor comes in with a big mac and says maybe it's time to get the forceps and leaves the room. Whoopie, the midwife delivered my daughter while he was gone.

Childbirth is not for the feint of heart.
 
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I strongly dislike a couple.... but I LOVE the cheese and crackers.

ETA:
In Minnesota in the dead of winter, you don't care about WHO is there so long as there is warm food and wine.

And if they really get on your nerves, you can hide the body under a big snowpile.
 
RANDOM THOUGHTS:

My orchestra teacher/marching band director posted on FB that he is starting YEAR 30 of marching band camp next week. Then he asked when he got old.

He's not old, he'll never get old. But what is FUNNY FUNNY about it--over half the people commenting are from MY YEARS of marching band and orchestra.
 
Saddi...84 hours of labor...and I thought 32 was bad.
th.gif
Although the c-section at the end WAS pretty bad.
 
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My guitar teacher (failed) was creepy and used to take me into this little back room at his music shop which I'm pretty sure was the face of a pot dealership, and never taught me a thing but sure did a lot of showing me how to hold my hands on the neck of the guitar. Ugh.
 
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ETA:
In Minnesota in the dead of winter, you don't care about WHO is there so long as there is warm food and wine.

And if they really get on your nerves, you can hide the body under a big snowpile.

Exactly.

But most of them are really good cooks.

*craving some bacon/mustard/cheese/onion bread now........*
 
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