A case of the drops

close up photography of people picking nachos chips

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No, that isn’t some sort of new disease and it isn’t some kind of euphemism for diarrhea. I am not even referring to what football receivers get once in a while in their careers. In this case it refers to a really annoying occurrence of dining out.

I am sure you have experienced it at one time or another, but it’s what I like to call the times when food just can’t seem to make it to my mouth (or I miss it all together) and it ends up down the front of me…on my shirt, my jacket, my tie, my pants…”the drops.”

I can hear you yelling now, “Oh, man! I hate that!”

Last night I visited a local establishment just because I could and because I wanted to. Maybe my motivations were bad and I ended up paying the angry food gods because the case of the drops started almost immediately.

Chips and salsa, meet shirt and pants.

Chips, meet shirt.

Sour cream, meet shirt.

Guacamole, meet shirt and pants.

I swear, it has never been that bad before. Maybe I just wasn’t leaning over my plate enough. Maybe I just got really weak chips for dipping. Maybe the gods are angry with me for wanting nachos. Who knows!?! All I know is that my food spent as much time on my fork or in my fingers as it did on my clothing.

Good grief. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed in public. Do you suppose they deliver nachos? That way I can just eat naked in the shower and hose myself off when I am done (sorry for that picture).


Got any messy food stories? What’s the best (and by best, I mean worst) instance of the drops have you had?

Where are the laundry elves?

wooden laundry washing clothes line

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I don’t know about your house, but there definitely are no laundry elves where I live.

Why can’t I just leave and come home to washed, folded, and put away laundry? I mean, seriously, does anyone enjoy doing this chore? If you do, how much does it cost to hire you?

There’s got to be an elf, or gnome, or app for that. Right?

There is no magic and it isn’t fun.

Just get done already.

Dress code angst

models posing an and woman standing next to each other looking upward

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Working in an office isn’t so bad, some of the time. However, there are still some things that just don’t make sense and are rather irritating.

One such illogical irritation is the dress code.

I work in software support and thus I spend about 90% of my time working with clients behind the scenes, meaning I am unseen. I answer calls, test software, create training materials, and suggest areas for improvement so that teacher’s lives can be made just a little bit easier instead of having to struggle with software. Anyway, most of my interaction is not directly in the physical presence of the client.

However, I am forced to dress as though I work with clients directly. I have to participate in “business dress,” even though I am unseen and work in a cube all day. Casual dress is only allowed on Fridays. This doesn’t make sense to me.

Anyone else have do deal with this situation? Does it irritate you like it does me?

adult casual collection fashion

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Temperature control

amber blaze blur bonfire

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Too hot. Too cold. Too hot. Too cold. Too hot. Too cold. Too hot. Too cold. Too hot.

The battle has begun.

It’s the “I’m too hot” and “I’m too cold” season. The season where your body can’t decide what it’s going to do so you spend lots of time trying to find the perfect temperature.

It’s cold outside, turn up the heat or build a fire. Now it’s too hot inside but too cold outside.

It’s cold outside, so bundle up to keep warm. Now you have too many layers on but you’re afraid if you take them off you’ll get cold so you don’t remove them only to stay too hot.

It’s cold in the house, so you add more blankets to the bed. Now you wake up in the middle of the night sweating. You throw them off, only to wake up shortly thereafter to pull them back up because you’re cold.

The office is cold but you don’t want to wear your coat while you work. You wear your coat while you work and then you’re too hot.

See? Constant battle. Push-pull. Hot-cold. Happy-miserable.

 

Wardrobe tragedy

photo of man tossing nescafe mug

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There is nothing worse than getting dressed up only to have a wardrobe tragedy occur without warning, and there rarely ever occur with warning so they are always a tragedy.

Raise your hand if you have ever: dropped food on your shirt/blouse? Dropped food on your pants/dress/skirt/shorts? Dropped food on your tie? Missed both your top AND bottom only to have it land on your shoe? Had it happen to your favorite outfit?

Dang it already…guess I’ll just throw this attire away and start over tomorrow.

 

**This post is NOT sponsored by Nescafe, but if it wants to I would completely open to large amounts of money.

Just 6″ please!

blue jeans clothes shopping

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One thing I have wished for all my life is six inches. I just want six more inches!

There are a lot of things that are inconvenient in life when you are short. 5’4″ is kinda short. Hey, I can’t help it, I have short parents too.

Anyway, six inches would go a long way in solving a lot of problems. First, it would put me a couple inches above the height of average American males, but it wouldn’t make me too tall (not that that is really an issue, I guess). Second, I could reach the top shelf of the cupboards without having to get out something to stand on. Third, I could easily find pants that fit.

Oh yeah, that last one is a big one, let me tell you! Being stalky is no day at the park, I have to say. Either the waist is too big, the legs too short, or the thighs and calves too tight. So, I have to make compromises. Purchased pants usually are too long and I either wear them that way (cuz they do shrink a little) or I have them hemmed (good luck trying to find people that do that these days).

Anyway, being short sucks. So, I’ll keep hoping I wake up 6″ taller some day. Or, hey, if you think about it, how about shooting up a prayer or two for me? You just never know, maybe someone will finally get the hint. Or, we’re getting into Santa season, maybe I’ll find some height in my stocking. What do you think Santa? Got my back on that one?

I didn’t think so.

#smh