Tuesday, January 5, 2010


Ok, so just a few days ago I couldn't say enough about how sweet and good my old ball and chain is. And then you know what? He thinks I am a 35 year old redhead. For reals. First off, I don't see how he can get my age mixed up. We have the same birthday, for crying out loud. I am exactly four years younger than him and I always will be. I am a freakin' baby of 32 compared to that old man of 36! And the redhead thing... he saw some dumb joke about brunettes on tv and laughed and said he wondered what life would be like if he had married one. And I responded with, 'Umm, you did.' Nope - he's completely convinced that he married a redhead. Now, it just so happens that I hold several redheads very near and dear - and as much as I'd like to be a member of the club (I have dyed my hair red a dozen times over the years, but not for a long time) I am just a brown head. Otherwise known as a brunette. A light brown head, but I'm pretty sure that's still brunette. Right? We've got black, blonde, red, brown, white, grey, and I think covers the hair colors.

In other news - my boss is gone. I mean she's completely gone! She put in her notice yesterday and our director told her to go ahead and leave. So there's a weird vibe running through the office now. She wasn't exactly fired, but that's what it feels like. We're all a little creeped out by the whole thing. She's a very nice woman, great at her job, not the best supervisor ever but oh well. She had a new plan on her back burner for several months and it came to light prematurely - which directly led to her cleaning out her office at 9:30 yesterday morning. Tearful goodbyes, awkward glances in the hallway, whispered conversations in the bathroom. Ick.

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