1. HIGH: I am poor. How is that a high? I have spent all week trying to come up with a list of charities and ideas for giving back for my TT, and it's not finished, so this isn't it. But I realized once again that while I am cash-poor, I am not soul wrenching, wishing my kids could eat poor, and so I am grateful to be only poor.
2. low: My clutch went out on me at lunch, and it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. I limped my car back to work in first gear, and promptly bawled like a baby in front of customers and co-workers alike. (I LOATHE public displays)
3. HIGH: The Honey grabbed a mechanic from work, and came riding to the rescue. It turns out my car, while a stick shift, has a hydraulic clutch, which requires some witches brew of oily goop. Once Pedro (Love ya, Pedro) got some witches brew into the resivoir, it was like it never happened. Except for the hysterical sobbing and cries of anguish that my poor co-workers had to endure. (Okay, I may be overstating it a bit, but I.Never.Cry.)
4. low: Rent is still due.
5. High: The company Christmas Party is this Friday, and we always have fun. Our boss is outstanding and there are prizes to win, good food to eat...No rubber chicken here!
6. low: We are often a dysfunctional little family at work, and so I will recite CRSE's Holiday Survival Guide tips and tricks for getting through the night. I especially like the Laughing out loud waaay to long and then saying "I can't believe you actually said that out loud." and then walking away.
7. HIGH: I was nominally on the committee to help out on the par-tay, and we usually get a bonus gift--yay!
8. low: In my geeky fervor to be helpful, I suggested to the girl who usually sings a solo but wasn't too hot to do it this year, that she should get some help! Sing something funny, and get a bunch of your girls up there to do it with you!
Oh, dear Dog, I've been drafted to sing, too.
9. HIGH: They liked the altered version of R_E_S_P_E_C_T by Aretha that Bre and I came up with, so if it's cheesy, at least it'll be OUR cheese.
10: low: They have flippin' choreographed the damned thing three days before we do it, and have added such charming moves as a booty shaking, hip pumping thing and lots of jumping back and forth. Have we met? Have you met my chest? Well, you may get an intro before that little routine finishes. Bre consoles me with the thought that there's always that kid at the recital. I asked her, the one who's picking his nose on camera? she said, well, I was thinking the one who can't dance, but okay. You can just be THAT kid. If I'm not that kid, I'll be the chick that fell out of her dress at the Christmas party. I could put an eye out, people. It's my very best waking nightmare. Oh, and I can't sing.
11. HIGH: My Wednesday Hero post went up this week, and I was pleased with the way it turned out.
12. low: Berta, a girl who used to work with us, went home at lunch and the apartment next door to her house had burned down. The single mom and her 5 year old daughter were standing outside in shock with nothing but their pajamas. Berta sent out an email asking for clothes.
13: HIGH: The mom wears my size! So I have a whole box of things I can get to her tomorrow. These have been some emotionally draining luch hours!
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