Dear Future Leslee,
Again, a thousand apologies at my prolonged absence. Things, as always, have been banana-sandwich. You’d think that after all this time of not blogging and living and working in this great big crazy world of ours that I’d come back with some kind of deep, important insight into the meaning of existence. You’d be wrong. So instead of regaling you with some kind of witty philosophical elucidation, I’m just gonna talk about random shit. And you’re going to like it.
First of all, remember last post when we talked about how the washing machine sounded so eerily like your ringtone? Well yesterday I was making sausages and I swear to god they sounded like kittens. Mewling, adorable kittens. To the point that I left the kitchen and looked outside my apartment to see if there was a cat in the hallway, and then checked the windows to see if one of my neighbors had left her cat outside. Nope, no kittens: just sausages. What the eff, brain? What did I ever do to you?
So the moral of that little tale is that I might actually for real be losing my mind. Just FYI.
Also, zippers. What is up with me and zippers? I managed to totally destroy the zipper on my winter coat (which now merely clips together haphazardly) and the zipper on my dress pants on the same day. Why can’t things just stay zipped to me? Is that asking too much?
I managed to yank the steel front off the filing cabinet yesterday. It was only, you know, welded in place, but apparently it was no match for my anacondas. The maintenance guy was pretty impressed. This way…to the gun show. I hope my true mutant powers have finally come to the forefront, Future Me, and that you’re out there fighting crime. Until then, I’m gonna keep surprising people with my feats of administrative RAGE.
There is one (count ’em…one…) cute resident working in my clinic at the hospital, and my awesome co-clerk pointed out how much he looks like a tanned George Straight and it has pretty much destroyed any pride I might still have harboured. I wish I could say I’m surprised, or that anybody else is, but really…who are we kidding? This is so typical for me that it makes me cry a little.
Oh, and a sad story about salt: I left my salt-shaker on a damp cutting board, and the little stopper in the bottom stuck to the board so that when I lifted up the shaker to put it away….salt everywhere. So sad. And after filling it up again, I left the little piece of tape over the holes and the next time I wanted salt it took me like five minutes to figure out why the shaker wasn’t working. I assume that by the time you’re reading this, you have servants to salt things for you…beat them if this happens. Beat them for me.
Other than that, things are pretty good. I am going into a two-week period of running the clinic all by lonesome, so for that reason you can expect that updates and letters will be few and far between. Also, I am running out of ideas of things to tell you, Future Me. I’m really just not that interesting…sorry. I will try to get up to some mischief so that you will have something fun to look back on.
May life continue to confuse, surprise and delight you,