Jeans and a T-shirt
Let's hope he's more interested in Mom's secret snacks on the other side of the room. (I very seldom actually get any of them. They have a way of dissappearing into that otherworldly dimension, more commonly known as, The Boy Child's stomach.)
It was The Eldest Brother's forty-fifth birthday yesterday. He had to work in the morning and got home after I went to work. This is the first year that I couldn't see him on this special day. The kids walked over to his place after school where The Mom and The Bro were waiting for them with copious amounts of decadent chocolate fudge birthday cake (He's not diabetic!)to open presents. I hope he had a great day.
We DID hire a girl to work at The Place That Employs Me. She both arrived and left the store before I got there, so I didn't get to meet her. Her name is "C" for now. I'll have to actualy have interaction with her before I can come up with a cute little nickname. Hopefuly, she get's trained in a hurry and I can have two days off from now on. (I hope, I hope, I hope...)
I wore this brand new shirt to work last night and had to throw it in the trash when I got home. I rounded a corner and got the side of it snagged on one of the shelves and just ripped it to all Hell and back. It ripped right through the eyelet part of the material with no way to mend it. I ruin more clothes that way. I tend to go through periods where I just say "Screw it!" and wear old jeans and T-shirts for awhile, then get all bummed out about not looking nice and wear cute little outfits again. My customers must think I'm schitzophrenic or Bi-polar. (Maybe I am....) Of course, as soon as I get into that cutesy stage, I go and ruin something again and the whole cycle repeats itself.
Today, it's jeans and a T-shirt.
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