So, guess what Mama Snee did all morning?
Printed address labels!
No kidding!
And not because there were a lot of labels to print, either, but because it all went to hell and I can't fucking figure any of it out. Tedious. The kind of thing that makes me sweat and my vision gets all wavy and I have to go stand in the break room for a minute.
And guess what's in the break room? Chocolate covered potato chips.
Go ahead, take a minute to think about that.
For Real, Though
The job is actually going well, the people are lovely, the hours are flexible and the paychecks are tiny, but they're cashable and I do need the cash. For the record, though, let's be clear that I take administrative jobs when I need work, not because I am good at them. Because I mostly suck at collating, copying, data entry, all of that. I have a friend who totally craves that kind of work, because it's sort of meditative and calming for her, I think, but it sure as shit does not hold my attention. I check completely out and then before you know it the Lawyer's office is calling because he opened his mail and got our check for the phone bill. And unfortunately, I'm not making up examples here. And it's only my second week. Just wait until the Executive Director ends up in Miami on the wrong day because I booked the wrong ticket! Then she'll have a reason to call up my old boss and compare notes, boy howdy.
Milk, Please
So, tonight, Birdy made the sign for milk. At least, I'm pretty sure she did. And I almost cried. And I almost cried again when she was asleep on my chest in the rocker, and she popped up for just a second, with her eyes half-closed, gave me two big claps and a grin, and collapsed again, totally sound asleep. She is really something, that Bird.
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