Auto-Type

Ok, try and stay with me here, I am not in my right mind and my fingers seem to be on auto-type. I had a conversation with Skipper last night that gave me a good slice of that clarity I was looking for. Indifference is in hopeful sight and every thought that slips me up I put in my mental waste bin and flush. Big picture, bricks in a house. Skipper, it was your best pep-talk yet, and that's saying something. Life is short, but sometimes it feels huge. The role that people play in your everyday life. People that you might see day after day over coffee creamers only need one "Good morning," and next thing you know you are putting a little chocolate on their croissant and talking about where you get your tattoos. It scares the crap out of me how much I enjoy those sometimes superficial, mundane interactions. Adore it. Glow from it. Smiling, smiling, smiling. 

I went to Target this evening and bought a bunch of crap I don't need. A pair of boots, hand cream, a  top, gingerbread Pop Tarts, candy cane Hershey's Kisses, Jumbo Nerds, popcorn, macaroni and cheese (which was nasty, I had it for dinner), and a new car freshener. I'm helping the economy. The things I do for my fellow Americans!

Chef Doug is being a bitch about Christmas this year and has announced that Dr. Sylvia has been put on a tight budget. You can only imagine how I feel about this, especially after having him tell me he found his dream grandfather clock for a few grand. So I am going to be buying my own Christmas presents this year. I am in the process of writing my list. 

Ok, I am beyond the point of being able to process any kind of real thoughts. I need to be in to work early for some bullshit staff meeting, and then bake some shit. I don't know how long it will last, but I fucking love my job at the moment. I so probably am jinxing it by typing this.