Thursday, May 18, 2006
ponderous.
so, brit boss works right beside me now. and he bought this expensive coffee machine for work--it's a cuisinart one that grinds the beans and then makes the coffee. every evening he sets it up for the next morning's use: tosses the grounds, rinses the gold filter, washes the pot, fills it with water. he gets in earlier than most of us, so i understand why the coffee is important.
but for the last week or two, every time i've been at my desk when he starts the evening coffee pot ritual, he's asked me to help him--carry the pot, or do some rinsing, or something. this is weird for three reasons.
i do not drink the coffee from this pot.
it is totally a one-person job that takes only two hands and about five minutes.
he does not seem ever to ask anyone else to help.
it's not like whoever's around when it's time for the coffee task gets roped into helping. i've never heard him ask anyone else. so, what is this? is it because i'm new in the department? is it because i have boobs? is it because i'm the youngest?
and i've gotten oddly paranoid about it, like i'll hide in the bathroom when he starts getting ready to leave the office. i did that yesterday and then came out when i thought it was safe, skirted our desk area and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. he was there, finishing up, and said: "would you mind taking this back?" and handed me the carafe full of water.
and then he walked right behind me back to our desk area, carrying four ounces of plastic in one hand, with the other one empty. WTF?
i am oddly creeped out by this. i'll keep you posted.
in other news, i am newly mini-obsessed with being pretty. the combo plate of continuing bad haircut recovery (yep, 10 months later, it still completely sucks) and an unexplained and shame-inducing spate of bad skin have gotten me twisted up like you wouldn't expect.
and it's about to get better. i mean, worse. i ran out of birth control. i thought i had another refill--because, you know, i had a perfectly fine pelvic and pap a year and a half ago, and am not due for another for at least six months and according to some guidelines eighteen months, so i mis-remembered the prescription as being renewable for a long stretch of time. no. the doctor only gave me scrip for six months' worth of pills. why? i called and asked. so i'd be compelled come back and "check in" in six months in order to get another.
check in? for what? to tell you some more about my long-term monogamous relationship and outstanding record of responsible self-care? oddly, this guy gave me a year's worth of antidepressants without blinking, though he did request "a note"--a note! like, to get out of gym class--from my therapist. weirdo.
so, the upshot is that i can't get back to Dr. Stingy Pills before leaving for france, so i gotta go off the pill for at least a month, probably two. so glad that his conservative treatment has now made me MORE LIKELY to get pregnant. chump.
it's also making me significantly less likely to have gotten over this bad patch of adult acne before the wedding of the one who is least afraid. which, you know, it'll be fine, and i wish it didn't matter so much to me, but the idea of being spotty at this viva glam wedding is so, so unappetizing. sigh.
but for the last week or two, every time i've been at my desk when he starts the evening coffee pot ritual, he's asked me to help him--carry the pot, or do some rinsing, or something. this is weird for three reasons.
i do not drink the coffee from this pot.
it is totally a one-person job that takes only two hands and about five minutes.
he does not seem ever to ask anyone else to help.
it's not like whoever's around when it's time for the coffee task gets roped into helping. i've never heard him ask anyone else. so, what is this? is it because i'm new in the department? is it because i have boobs? is it because i'm the youngest?
and i've gotten oddly paranoid about it, like i'll hide in the bathroom when he starts getting ready to leave the office. i did that yesterday and then came out when i thought it was safe, skirted our desk area and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. he was there, finishing up, and said: "would you mind taking this back?" and handed me the carafe full of water.
and then he walked right behind me back to our desk area, carrying four ounces of plastic in one hand, with the other one empty. WTF?
i am oddly creeped out by this. i'll keep you posted.
in other news, i am newly mini-obsessed with being pretty. the combo plate of continuing bad haircut recovery (yep, 10 months later, it still completely sucks) and an unexplained and shame-inducing spate of bad skin have gotten me twisted up like you wouldn't expect.
and it's about to get better. i mean, worse. i ran out of birth control. i thought i had another refill--because, you know, i had a perfectly fine pelvic and pap a year and a half ago, and am not due for another for at least six months and according to some guidelines eighteen months, so i mis-remembered the prescription as being renewable for a long stretch of time. no. the doctor only gave me scrip for six months' worth of pills. why? i called and asked. so i'd be compelled come back and "check in" in six months in order to get another.
check in? for what? to tell you some more about my long-term monogamous relationship and outstanding record of responsible self-care? oddly, this guy gave me a year's worth of antidepressants without blinking, though he did request "a note"--a note! like, to get out of gym class--from my therapist. weirdo.
so, the upshot is that i can't get back to Dr. Stingy Pills before leaving for france, so i gotta go off the pill for at least a month, probably two. so glad that his conservative treatment has now made me MORE LIKELY to get pregnant. chump.
it's also making me significantly less likely to have gotten over this bad patch of adult acne before the wedding of the one who is least afraid. which, you know, it'll be fine, and i wish it didn't matter so much to me, but the idea of being spotty at this viva glam wedding is so, so unappetizing. sigh.
