Hide and Go Netflix

At one of my old jobs, many years ago, I had a lot of down time. Once I was pretty confident I could knock out my work in a certain amount of time,  I’d take a little break. And catch up on Netflix. I wasn’t the only one. My entire row of coworkers was watching one movie or tv show at any given time. Where do you think I got the idea?

It started small, with secret windows open just emough for me to watch a few minutes here and there while I worked…eventually, though, it was entire episodes. Full movies. I was a rebel, and I loved it.

And that was before smart phones were as fancy as they are now. These days, I’ve got way too much work going on to play on the clock, but now that I can Netflix on my fancy phone (where I’m granfathered in an unlimited data plan), I can avoid people and places everywhere else by staring at my phone. I’m not an introvert, but I’m an introverted extrovert, and when I’m uncomfortable somewhere, it’s nice to have an escape.

Need to avoid the loud old ladies on the train screaming chaw-co-lot-ay at little girls? Escape in a magical world with Charmed.

Irritated by the gossipy soccer moms behind you? Watch Mean Girls (starting tomorrow!).

Ladies talking too much on the train.

If you follow me on Snapchat, you get to see things like this.

Bored with family drama? Turn on your favorite episode of Gilmore Girls.
Tired of day to day office nonsense? Catch an episode of 30 Rock. 

Where do you  Netflix?

I don’t have kids (yet), but Netflix posed the question, “Where do you sneak in a few minutes of your favorite show?” This post is part of my Netflix StreamTeam partnership. I received a year of Netflix and a device on which to watch all my favorite shows.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Compliment Sandwich, Bitch.

In which we talk about the jerks who don’t know how to give constructive criticism.

The compliment sandwich

I really love the way you offer suggestions for improvement, but…

When you’re dealing with people, I don’t give a damn whether you’ve got an MBA or a GED. You know what matters to me?

How you TREAT people. Yes, how you treat me is a significant factor, but I also look at how you treat others. How you talk about others. What you write in e-mail. Everything you say to or about people shows me the kind of person that you are. And if you’re being a douche nozzle, you should probably take this to heart.

I didn’t attend a fancy business school, but I did learn that the best way to deliver criticism is with a spoonful of sugar.

Mary Poppins is my homie.

If you’re going to tell a writer that their work could use a little cleaning up, I recommend the compliment sandwich.

How to dish out a compliment sandwich

What you’ll need:

  • Examples of excellent work, planning, organization, strategy or anything else that could warrant a proverbial pat on the back
  • The problem, issue, criticism that needs to be discussed
  • Proof and/or examples of the problem
  • A solution to the problem (if there is one)
  • The right words to eloquently phrase the problem, the solution, and the pat on the back so that you don’t come off as a dick
  • Someone to check your grammar and spelling (this is optional but highly recommended if you’re sending criticism via e-mail).

Step 1: Whether you’re writing an e-mail or confronting the offender in person, it’s best to ensure that you know exactly what you’re going to say. Words are powerful. If you’re not sure of your phrasing, consult with other people. This is essential.

Step 2: Deliver compliment #1. This is one of the easiest parts. “You’re doing a great job here (Elaborate. Get them on Team You).” or “I really appreciated how you handled project A, B, or C.” or my favorite, “I know you’re working really hard on this…”

Step 3: Transition into the constructive criticism. This should be seamless from compliment to “here’s something I’ve/we’ve noticed.”

Step 4: Deliver criticism. Make sure that you use NICE language. The words, “suck,” “shit,” “crap,” “awful,” “terrible,” “worst,” and any other derivative of these offensive words should be avoided at all costs. Stick with words like: “improve,” “adjust,” “modify,” “change,” and “expectations.”

Step 5: Offer that solution. If you genuinely don’t have a solution, give them TIME to come up with a solution. If you couldn’t think of one in the time it took you to plan this, they certainly aren’t going to have a solution on the spot, especially if they’re feeling attacked.

Step 6: Bring it right back to another compliment. Positive reinforcement works wonders. The whip? Not so much. “Thank you.” “I know you can do this.” “You’ve got a lot of great ideas, let’s implement them.” If you can’t think of 2 compliments, you’ve got a whole different problem on your hands, and I can’t help you. But if you can, then be nice to your people. Duh?

You have so much potential, so I know that you CAN make this compliment sandwich thing work.

See what I did there?

someecards.com - Your grammatically incorrect e-mail was much appreciated. For reference, though,

Have you experienced a peer or someone in your place of employment who didn’t have a nice thing to say, ever? How did you handle it? Do you believe in the compliment sandwich? How do you deliver constructive criticism?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Hey Nicholas Cage, Quit Watching Me Pee

In my office, the bathroom is an interesting space. I’ve been with my company for over two years, and last month, they replaced lights I didn’t even know existed. For two years, the bathroom was a dark, dank place.

image

And now, look how bright it is! (Sort of.)

The ladies are occasionally super messy and gross  (signs literally went up in three places to say, “if it’s still there, flush again.” Yes. I know.) Toilets overflow. It’s just a mess.

image

I’m not sure if you can see the pool of water…

And then there’s the awkwardness that ensues when people refuse to acknowledge one another in the bathroom…Here’s a good rule of thumb: if you make eye contact, smile or say something…a simple “hi” will suffice. If you purposely avoid eye contact, other people will notice and you’ll look like a dick.

image

But when you sit down on the porcelain throne, and look up to see creepy Nicholas Cage staring at you…

image

How do you even respond?

Well, I had gone into one of the smaller stalls on a whim (okay fine, someone was in the handicapped stall), and discovered the above-pictured gem…

And procedured to check every other stall in the bathroom. The handicapped stall (my stall of choice) was the only one without a picture of my good pal, Nic.

image

image

image

Oh. And one left shark.

 

I happened upon the creepiest Nic pic of the bunch on my first try, but the rest were pretty fantastic.

And don’t get me wrong…I like Mr. Cage. His work in Con Air really did it for me. But dear God, I can’t handle him watching me pee.

image

What weird things go on in your office bathroom? Ever been caged with Cage?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

5 Things Grey’s Anatomy Taught Me About Life

I’ve been a die-hard Grey’s Anatomy fan since Season 1, when a slutty intern went home with a hot guy at the bar, who turned out to be her boss. While Grey’s has had its ups and downs (I’m sorry, but can someone PLEASE explain why Denny died and returned as a REALLY dirty brain-tumor fantasy?), I’ve been in this relationship longer than a lot of my friendships, and most certainly my current relationship. These people are MY people. When they cry, I cry. When they’re happy, I cry (because I’m happy. Geez).

Grey's

With Mer, Der, Bailey, and the gang back for the second half of the eleventh season, and the first ten seasons streaming on Netflix, I thought that now would be a good time to ponder the really important things in life…you know…how Grey’s has truly brought knowledge, wisdom, and understanding to those significant parts of my world. From the moment Meredith begged Derek to pick her to the day Cristina left everything to start something amazing in Zurich, the doctors at Seattle Grace/Grey Sloan have captured our hearts and taught us a little something about the world in which we live. Here are just a few of them.

On marriage

There is NO wrong way to do it. You want to have the big poofy wedding dress with tradition and romance? Go for it. You want the court house secret wedding? It’s all yours. Two ladies proclaiming their undying love for each other in a beautiful lady-lady wedding? Sure thing. Forget the wedding and vow all the vows to each other on a post-it note? You can do that too. We won’t judge. All of a sudden the post-it that was Carrie Bradshaw’s romantic end became Mer’s romantic beginning. It was like TV amnesia, and we ate it up (not unlike the guy who ate the guy who ate Judy dolls. Okay, maybe completely unlike the guy who ate Judy dolls). The point is that you can do what you want. And when my boyfriend of four years has yet to put a ring on it, that’s okay too, right?Grey's I love you

SPOILER ALERT: If you’re watching Grey’s on Netflix and not caught up with season 11, skip the invisible print and move on to work/life balance. Otherwise, feel free to highlight the blank space below…

As the mid-season premier comes this week…They better not flipping break up. Again. That is all.

On Work/Life Balance

It is an absolute necessity to enjoy the company of the people with whom you work. You spend a lot of time with them, and you don’t want to worry about petty BS when you screw up. You want people that are going to work with you and help you in your sticky situation, whether you cut someone’s LVAD wire or slept with the boss. Make friends with the people on your team so that they’ve got your back when you need it. Just make sure you’ve also got their backs.

On Becoming an Adult

One day you’re doing tequila shots and letting the teachers guide you; the next thing you know, you’re the teacher…or at the very least, you’re required to be a responsible adult 40-80 hours a week. Whether you create a mini army of tiny humans or live out your dream of becoming one of the finest doctors at the real-life version of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, responsibility just hits you. And you can’t make it stop.

On Friendship

Sometimes you’ll fight with your best friend. Sometimes things will get so low and so dirty that you say nasty things…you stop speaking to each other for months and when you do speak, it’s snappy and horrible. You might even leave your freshman dorm for the summer vowing never speak to one another ever again (that may have been my real life Mer-Cristina fight). But between tequila shots, dancing it out, boyfriend drama, and free Olive Garden birthday cake (okay, I threw that last one in for good measure; it didn’t actually happen on Grey’s either), you’re back together before the summer’s over. Or before one of you moves VERY far away. But even in distance, your friendship is totally still there.Dance it out

On Weird Medical Stuff That Could TOTALLY Happen

If you find yourself saying, “I saw that on Grey’s Anatomy Once,” odds are you learned something. Of course, just because someone survived a serious bout of being encased in a cement block, doesn’t mean you should go take a swim in liquid cement. And remember that this is real life…and real life doctors (who can be just as delicious in appearance) know their stuff. Don’t distrust the doctor when he tells you he’s going to do something different that the McDreamy/Steamy Dream Team. He’s still a licensed professional. And you’re (likely) not.

Are you a Grey’s fan? What have you learned from your favorite TV shows?

Netflix Stream Team

While no one paid me to write this, I am a member of the Netflix Stream Team. I was given a year’s membership to Netflix and a device on which to watch Grey’s Anatomy and all sorts of other delightful shows!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I’m Like a Word Magician

So, you already know that I’m a word ninja and a grammar Nazi. But did you also know that I’m a word magician?

I'm like a word magician

Last week, Brian and I made our way over to DreamHost’s DreamCon (This is when my favorite hosting company, DreamHost <–[That’s an affiliate link with a shameless plug and $10 off], threw a party for me to check out in Chicago.) We were able to attend another one of these shindigs in San Jose and had a BLAST playing Cards Against Humanity with some of the DreamHost team. We expected nothing less here in the Windy City. We weren’t wrong.

As this was a networking event, we found ourselves chatting it up with new friends and old (hello DreamHost friends! I heart you guys!). While we were talking with someone from DreamHost HR, he introduced his title as something amusing (of course, my beer-muddled brain forgot to write that down). So I told him that I was a word magician.

So, out there in the real world, I’m an SEO copywriter (not copyrighter). I write copy (that’s content for advertising) for a pretty large retail company and then do some word magic to get the content to the top of your Google search. SEO is a fickle bird, and it’s certainly not one I try to do anything with for this blog. And so I told my new friend this.

I started explaining that SEO is great for somethings, but I mean, I can’t just try to optimize everything. And that’s a lot of what I see bloggers doing. Some posts (like this one) just aren’t designed to be optimized. I could try to optimize this post for “reasons your blog doesn’t need SEO” and maybe I will. But probably not. Because someone who is looking for that type of content isn’t looking for my random ramblings. They want facts and statistics. Which I’m not going to give you.

So then I explained to this lovely fellow that there were some opportunities for me to bank on my SEO knowledge…

“Say you want to search for ‘ways to fuck with your boyfriend while he’s sleeping.’ Now that’s something I could probably optimize for. Because it’s humorous and random, and anyone searching for that is looking for a girl like me.”

Of course, at this point, the guy is belly-laughing and Brian looks out through his glazed-over eyes (introvert tricks) and notices that there’s a conversation happening and he may be the subject of it. But it went all the way over his head. And I let it. Because coming soon is a post entitled, “Ways to Fuck With Your Boyfriend While He’s Sleeping.”

Because you need that in your life. Amiright?

Blog Friends, if you could re-title your professional career (whether you’re a full-time corporate monkey, a part-timer, wfh, sahm, whatever), what would you title yourself? Do you believe in SEO for your blog?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Five Things Friday: Things I’m Going to Miss About my Train Line

This is it, Blog Friends. The big move. Today is my last day commuting on the BNSF Metra train line for a while. If you recall, we’re currently moving into Brian’s dad’s house while we begin the hunt for our very own house. As our new residence is only a temporary one, we may return to this commute someday soon, but we won’t know until we find our house. (Which is the most exciting thing EVER. I’m going to have SO MUCH TO TELL YOU. After I’m done packing up all of the shit I’ve accumulated in the last 18 months….or 31 years. One of those.)

But I wanted to reflect on the things I’m going to miss about this particular train line, because it’s been my daily commute for almost a year now. (And I’ve been riding the train for over a year.)

In no particular order,

5 Things I’m Going to Miss About my Train Line

  1. Train buddies.  It’s funny, when I was younger, I dated a guy who had a daily commute to the city and he would talk about having drinks with his train buddies, and I was just like…that’s a thing? Weird. And then I started taking the train every day. And I was in the same spot every day. And in the mornings, I stand in the first car vestibule. Every day. I know the conductor. I know the people. Because we’re in the same spot for 25 minutes every. Single. Day. And you jump into a conversation here or there (which Brian HATES that I do) and the next thing you know, you’re on a first name basis, telling everyone your life story. And then you’re buddies. And you’ll miss them when you leave.
  2. The funny conductor. My morning conductor, whose name is always on the tip of my tongue, but I can never remember, is hysterical. He’s always grumbling and making fun of Metra like it’s his job. I like him because he remembers me and doesn’t make me pull my pass out every morning. He also makes fun of the mean conductor (who was in charge of the cars that I originally sat in). He’s quite a likable fellow. Even though he rarely smiles.
  3. 25 minute commute time. I’m super lucky to have been living in a hub of commuters. Downers Grove is an express train line, and it’s the last stop on the inbound express. Which means I get on the train, and it’s non-stop to Union Station.  I’m going to miss that when I have a 45 minute train commute…tacking on lots and lots of extra time to my day.
  4. The fancy pants grocery store. So on our way home, we get off the train and there’s this adorbs grocery store that has delicious cheese for me and pico de gallo for Brian. It’s pretty much everything we need in our kitchen. Right there. So convenient. So delicious. I asked Brian the other day, “OMG where I am I going to get my cheese!? There are no fancy grocery stores or even Trader Joe’s nearby! I’m going to have to drive an hour to get cheese.” But then I remembered the cheese shop 4 blocks from my office and I could breath again.
  5. The evening conductor. Brian hates that I strike up conversations with strangers and he randomly gets sucked into them. HATES it. But I do. And he does. And one of those people is the evening conductor on our train. While we have separate commutes in the morning, Brian and I often train home together. And we sit in the same seats in the same car every day. And our conductor always stops and chats with us. More recently, he discovered that we are not, in fact, married. And now he teases Brian about it. Which makes me laugh.

It basically feels like I’m moving schools or leaving a job or something. It’s sad. Apparently wherever I go, I build my own little community. I love that about me.

What about you, Blog Friends? Do you have a routine that you would miss if you moved? Have you ever gone through this? Do you commute on a train? What’s the world like for you?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Two Hours in the Life of Me. A Typical Atypical Day.

The other day my morning progressed in the following fashion:

7:00 AM: Woke up. Late.

Got dressed. In the dark.

Packed some snacks for work and yogurt for breakfast.

Waited on Brian. (This is unusual as he is typically waiting on me.)

Gave Brian my gigantic umbrella. Used a tiny substitute.

7:42 AM Missed my train. By a millisecond.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

8:25 AM Got to the city.

Walking to work, I looked down at my shirt. Inside out.

Got to the elevator.

Thought to self, If the ‘vator is empty…

Then people jumped on. Got to the 16th floor.

Realized I didn’t push the 13.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

Pushed 13. Flipped shirt outside in.

Elevator opened.

8:45 AM Got to desk.

9:00 AM Looked for yogurt. Left bag at home.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

And the day pretty much continued like that.

Sometimes, I feel like this is the norm moreso than it is unusual for me. Inside out shirts, forgetting things at home, not paying attention to where I’m going, fixing the problem in the most inappropriate way ever…I mean, if anyone had gotten on the elevator between floors 15 and 14, they would have gotten a much better view. Also, I think there’s a camera in the elevator. Whatever.

If you don’t believe me, here are a few additional examples.

That one morning when all hell broke loose with the broken glasses and the freezing and the ugh right before vacation.

That other morning when I was a little late to work because I forgot my keys

That time I got a concussion because of a no parking sign and the Willy Wonka of meat candy.

That other time I almost died because of an invisible wire.

I mean, at least it’s spread out over the course of several months, right?

Me on a good commuter day (okay, fine...this was on my way home.)

Me on a good commuter day (okay, fine…this was on my way home.)

Why do we rush around so much? What’s your rushed morning look like.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

In Which Uncle Murphy Paid a Visit to the Girl Who Won’t Stop Bragging About Vacation…Which Starts Tomorrow.

And by Uncle Murphy, I mean the writer of Murphy’s Law. The bastard.

So yesterday, I started the morning with my usual dash to the train and had a few missteps. And once I passed those missteps, thought I was home free. So I Facebooked that shit. Because. You know…that’s what I do.

Crazy Commuter Morning


Note to self: Don’t post this shit on Facebook until the next day.

So I made it to the train; piece of cake. Stuff in tow. I sometimes get on the train on the back car and walk all the way to the front car. I like to be one of the first people off the train to avoid the Union Station cattle call. It’s a good thing. Usually.

As I made my way toward the front of the train, I started to unwrap the layers of warmth surrounding my body that were causing me to sweat. The train gets toasty when it’s full of people.

I sat down in the little vestibule like usual (So I don’t have to sit next to loud, annoying smelly people) and typed up my ordeal. As I started to re-layer up, I realized that my sweet Bears hat was missing. Somewhere between Car 137(this is a made up number FYI) and Car 1, I had dropped my warm and cozy hat. With a one-mile walk and a -20 degree windchill to look forward to. Awesome.

It’s okay, Christine (I call myself this, when I’m angry at self.) You’ve got the scarf and the face mask and the hood. It’s all going to be okay.

Winter 1: Chrissy 0

So I went on with my morning routine. Buttoned my coat, snapped my face mask, wrapped up my  sweet 12-foot scarf, slipped my glasses into my pocket and was on my way.

Doctor Who Scarf

Twelve glorious feet of scarf. More on that next week.

As I crossed the street just outside of Union Station, I slipped on a patch of ice. LUCKILY, I am a master of correcting myself so as not to fall. I know. I know. You’ve seen how many sweet spills I’ve taken. From spraining my ankle on a mountain to tripping over invisible wires to walking into No Parking signs…You can’t exactly call me Grace.

So I didn’t fall. Which is good, because if I had, I would have either A. face-planted into Adams street or B. gone backwards into the metal bridge dealie. But I screamed the obnoxious scream that usually scares the crap out of Brian.

Good work, Christine. You really sealed it with that one. It’s okay though. Let’s go find some breakfast.

I walked the cold walk to Pret, where I picked up a tasty little breakfast thingy with bacon (because all that matters is the bacon. Obvi.)

After Pret, it was only 3 blocks to the office, so I was almost there. I checked the time; things looked good.

We’re ready for the day. It won’t be that bad. You’ve got bacon. You can get a hat on your lunch break. Work’s going to fly by. And vacation is in 2 days. You can do it.

I stepped into my office building and started deconstructing my walk-wear. Because I was pretty blind when I walked (the face mask fogs up my glasses), one of the first things I did was pull out my glasses from my sweatpants pocket.

Well.

Part of my glasses anyways.

As I reached in to grab my specks, the motherfuckers cracked. Something about them being frozen and crackable made that the perfect moment to die.

“MOTHERFUCK!”

I’d like to tell you that I just thought that in my head. I really would.

But no. It came out in all it’s obnoxious glory. And the lovely security lady came to check on me, because I was visibly on the verge of a breakdown. She wanted to help. But she couldn’t. There was nothing anyone could do.

Glasses broke in half because of cold

FML. That’s about the end of that.

So I thanked her. And probably apologized, because I do that when I’m upset. And got into the elevator. Alone.

And then…I cried the ugly cry.

It started with a few Claire Danes sniffles and snorts, but then it went full-out bawling. I could NOT win this morning if I tried.

I crawled into my office, trying to hide my eyes, hoping that they were masked by the cold look everyone seemed to be wearing. I found the only secluded place I knew of in the open office and I just let it all out.

Eventually, I had one of my co-workers come rescue me and she even brought my SWEET work slippers. There’s something about sequined camo that makes the world seem just a little bit brighter.

Sequin Camo Slippers

I’m Polish, OK. So stop judging my holiday Minnie Mouse socks and camo slippers.

I was blind for the first half of my day, but picked up a set of contacts (after getting an unnecessary eye exam in order to get the free trial) and ordered some adorably sassy new specks. And then I remembered that vacation was only HOURS away now.

So here we are. 27 hours away from my flight outta this Frozen Tundra and after a week of vacation joy, I’m coming home to a new pair of specks, the Superbowl (Go Peyton! My LOVE!), the Olympics, house-hunting and so much more joy.

See, things can turn around for the better!

Have you ever had one of those days? Where you just can’t seem to catch a break? Tell me about it. No seriously, tell me about it.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

The Importance of Learning to Say “No”

I have always been a “yes” girl.

I feel guilty saying, “no.”

I feel guilty saying, “no,” so I say, “yes.” And then I find myself overbooked, overwhelmed and over-anxious. I work a full time job. I work more than 40 hours a week. I commute 10 hours a week. Which means that I’m gone for almost 12 hours a day. 5 days a week.

And then I come home. And I blog. Because I love you guys. I love the community that we’ve built. I love sending you thoughtful messages and chatting with you. I love reading other blogs, and participating in other communities.

But it can get overwhelming.

All of it.

Two weeks ago, I was offered a semi-promotion. One that wouldn’t change my title or my pay just yet, but the opportunity to move up to an official manager would quickly be in my sights. I would have direct reports. I would be responsible for the work of two other very talented people.

And I said, “no.”

I said this, not because I wasn’t ready for the position, but because I wasn’t ready for the additional demands on my personal life. I believe in a solid work-life balance, and I’m still working out the kinks in this one. I don’t want to live to work. I work to live.

Of course, I also feel that I have a lot more professional development to work on as a senior copywriter. I want to remain a mentor to newer team members, but I don’t want to be a manager. I want to be a peer. I want to learn from my peers. I want to build on my knowledge as a writer, and not a manager.

So, I said, “no.”

And it wasn’t the last time I said, “no” in the last few weeks. I also said no to social engagements, when I needed a break. It’s hard to stay home when people want you to join them for fun and laughter, but sometimes you just need to stay in and read an entire trilogy of books. And rearrange your cabinets. And give away all of your storage containers to make room for the ridiculous amount of Pyrex and Pfaltzgraff that you bought on Black Friday. Because that’s just what you do when you need a break.

You find joy and laughter in the things that help you relax. For me, it’s reading and rearranging. What helps you relax? Do you have problems saying, “no” too? Tell me about it, Blog Friends.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

By the Way, Yesterday was April Fool’s Day. I Promise I’m NOT Quitting You. Or the Blog.

A conversation/interaction between me and B before getting on the train home.

Me: Did you bring me snacks?

Brian: Maaaaybe. I don’t remember. Maybe not.

Me: What snacks did you bring?

Brian: I think I forgot. Maybe there are some from last week.

Me: *sad face*

Brian: Maybe tomorrow.

Me: That’s okay. I have cheese and cracker sticks. And jelly beans.

Brian: Really?

Me: Yes.

Brian: *unzips backpack and looks at me expectantly*

Me: *Opens backpack and discovers trail mix.* Sweet! *Begins snacking immediately.*

Brian: There’s string cheese and apple juice too.

Me: Best. Boyfriend. Ever. It’s like a real life after school snack.

Brian: Sure.

Me: Want some?

Brian: Nope.

20 minutes later…

We have this textversation on the train.

text conversation with Brian

Before I worked in the city (3 days a week), Brian used to always let me know what train he was on, so I could plan dinner…sometimes.

At which point our conversation restarted…

Brian: But it’s part of the wifely duties.

Me: I don’t see a ring on my finger. I’m definitely not cooking you dinner.

 

Blog friends, tell me something cute that your significant other does for you. I love adorkable tales, you know.

PS: Thanks to all you lovelies who commented on my April Fool’s Joke. While I am not planning on quitting the blog, I really appreciated the support and suggestions. You guys are amazing. That is all.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!