This morning a man with messy white hair sat in our room for almost an hour talking about his brand new grandson and how the boy's maternal grandmother is insistant that the baby not be innoculated. I haven't formed my own opinion on the immunization matter, but the rest of the room pretty much decided that the new little boy (Blake) won't live to see his first birthday without his shots. They also went on some tangent that ended up with the idea that every kid who doesn't take immunization will end up with autism, ADHD and cancer. Huh...I don't think that's how it works.
It's interesting to listen to these conversations without any preconceived notion of who the talking party is. Should I be doing a better job of figuring out which of my co-workers are which? After my last job, I've decided that being friends with your co-workers is a terrible idea (obvious relationships aside =D), so I'm not in a big hurry to delve into the personal lives of my fellow 9 to 5ers. (Ok, 0720-1602...ers) Does that make me cold? A bad person? I just prefer to leave work at work.
For the first time this year, I am responsible for Christmas. Well not solely responsible...Paul and I are doing it together (obviously). In years past I've always just bought my gifts and shown up. This year, I'm stuffing the stockings, hiding the gifts, making sure the house is ready, cooking something to bring to Christmas Eve dessert and something to bring for Christmas dinner. And holy crap it's overwhelming! This is Paul's and my first Christmas and my first Christmas with the kids, and I want it to be just right. At some point, I know I'm just going to have to relax and enjoy myself, but right now just the sight of my to do list can bring me to tears. I'm very much looking forward to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with all the different parts of the family, but I think deep down I just want it to be Saturday. I want to go to my mom's house. I want to kick back on her couch and eat the dinner she made and just be with the calm that is my family. Irresponsible, immature, irrational--I know. But you can't blame a girl for not wanting to be the grown up all the time. ('Hey, non-grown up girl-- You're still going to have three out-of-their-element kids to take care of. You can't shirk all the responsibility!')
A man just walked in with his arms full of floor plans. He smells just like Chris, the boyfriend I had in Wisconsin. Curious how smell, more than anything, can take us right back to a hidden memory or conjure thoughts long buried.
I finally finished Nicholas' stocking (with much help from Paul's mom. I always feel domestically retarded around her). To finish it off, I'll pin one of Paul's name tapes to the top, and maybe borrow some rank to pin to the pocket. Just like daddy's--Nicholas will love it. I love it.
Finally (and thank you for your patience), do you know anyone who would appreciate a beautiful, lively, 3 year old motley corn snake for Christmas? Well, late Christmas. I have no place for his tank at my house, and my sister doesn't want to take care of him, so poor Pan needs a home. He's probably about 30 inches and eats one frozen fuzzy a week (I think). I really need to find him a home. Poor thing.
This isn't him, but looks a lot like him. Only Pan is a bit darker. He's lovely and curious and mischevious, so he'd do well with teenagers or adults. Let me know, yo.
Thank you for listening today. Sometimes a girl just needs someone to talk at for a while!