24 May 2010
Here’s how absent-minded I am (in case you didn’t already know):
Today, on the way home from work, I stopped at Target. Primarily to return something we bought there yesterday, but also to buy a few items. Among the items I needed were a couple of pairs of nice pants (so that I can be “Mr. Fancy Pants”). I found a few that looked like they would fit, and then I went over to the fitting rooms. Today was, like, my third time ever in my adult life that I used a fitting room. Did you know they give you a ticket? Yeah, it’s like you’re boarding a plane or something. Anyway…
I tried on the pants and selected the two pair that fit the best and enhanced my best features. The I carried the pants and the other items to the opposite end of the store in order to pay.
As the cashier was ringing up my items, I reached up to my shirt pocket to grab my sunglasses, but they weren’t there. “Oh man,” I said to the cashier, “can I leave my stuff here while I go get my sunglasses? I think I left them in the changing room.”
She said I could, so I did. I then walked all the way back to the furthest corner of the store and told the ticket lady that I’d left my sunglasses in the room. She didn’t seem to care about my story, so I just walked down the hall of fitting rooms.
Here’s the thing: I couldn’t remember which fitting room I used. In my defense, there’s about 15 identical rooms all in a row, and the one I used was somewhere near the center. I narrowed it down to three rooms, which were all closed. When a woman walked out of one room, I poked my head in real quick, but I didn’t see any sunglasses. A moment later, the second room freed up. Still no sunglasses. I waited close to ten minutes longer until the third, very slow lady, exited here room. There were my sunglasses right where I’d left them.
And, no, I can’t just buy another pair. They are high-quality brand-name polarized, anti-reflective sunglasses which I won in a contest when I used to work at Lenscrafters. Back then (1997?) they retailed for $150. Besides, even if I did lose them, I wouldn’t buy another pair, since I have ten more.
25 May 2010
Man, I am not a fan of hot weather. With high temperatures usually comes high humidity, and I can’t stand either one. Today reminded me of being in Florida, where the sun is boring through my clothes as if I’m standing under a magnifying glass, and the moisture in the air feels like I just stepped out of the shower and forgot to turn on the fan.
Today we got in our exercise by walking around the Mall of America. On the one hand, this is quite lame, because it’s a lot prettier outside and I hate the constant distractions at the mall. On the other hand, the mall has a much more bearable climate. And, as my wife noted, she can stop to go to the bathroom at several locations along the way.
Here’s hoping for some more normalized May weather…
26 May 2010
Today, at work, one of my co-workers looked at one of my other (very pregnant) co-workers as she passed by and said: “She shouldn’t even be here.”
I’m not sure if this was meant as just a funny comment, or if she really meant it. I think the answer lies somewhere in between. In that case, I have a few things I’d like to say about that comment:
First, if a woman is 39+ weeks pregnant and is still capable of showing up at work and contributing to the company, I say let her be. Why should she stay at home? Yes, I realize some women may need to stay home in the final days or weeks of their pregnancy, but if there’s no health risks to mom or baby, why should she be made to feel like she should stay home?
Second, a “due date” isn’t a deadline. It’s not like a wedding that’s set for a certain date and that’s gonna happen on that date regardless of weather or who can and can’t attend. The fetus is, I’m pretty certain, not checking off days on some in utero calendar. If mom is expecting a baby on, say, January first, and she’s still pregnant on January fourth, what’s the big deal (again, barring health considerations)? A baby is easier to care for inside the womb than outside, so let it stay in there if it needs to.
Third, employees at my job, and I think at most others, are granted a finite period of time to take off for the birth of a new child. Here in workaholic America, that time is stupidly short. My co-worker, I believe, will be getting 12 weeks off from work. Sure, she can take longer if she needs to or wants to, but the company will only pay for 12 weeks. So, my bet is, she wants the 12 weeks to begin on the baby’s birthday; not waste three or four days beforehand (this goes back to #2, above).
Alright, I’ll get off my soapbox now.