Most of the time my office is pretty crazy, it’s like I get to work and 50 people are yelling “run Becca, run faster! Run up that hill, run! run! run!” and I spend the morning sprinting and sweating and in general feeling like I’m not fast enough. And then there is a sweet hour in the middle of the day that is just for me – and during that hour my one friend at work and I commiserate how much all of the running sucks and we give each other pep talks and eat lots of frozen yogurt to build up our strength and then we put our heads down and run back into the melee.
But this week we seem to have hit some kind of mid summer research doldrums, like we are in the middle of the Atlantic waiting for NSF to call… So, I have had some down time which has been weird but nice so I thought I would pay some attention to this website. Not that I’m writing this at work – if you are reading this and I work with you I’m totally not writing this at work, I’m sure that violates some kind of University policy, also if you read this and I work with you how did you get here? You should not know this page exists and I am not the Becca that you think I am.
Tomorrow my one friend (see above) leaves for vacation and I am frantically trying to figure out how to fill my one sweet hour in the middle of the day. I’m afraid if I don’t plan some things than I will end up working at my desk and forgetting to look up and take a breath, like that one time when she called out sick. To that end I have made lunchtime appointment to get some waxing done. This reminds me of my favorite blonde joke:
A man sits down next to a blonde on a plane, she is reading the newspaper and visibly upset, he glances at the headline which reads “Six Brazilian dead in plane crash” She tearily looks over at him and says “How many is a Brazilian?”
I can say these things, I’m totally blonde – also I wanted a nice segway to telling you that I’m getting all of my lady parts waxed. I’ve never done this before and I’m terrified, not of the pain or the procedure but because the woman who I go to scares the ever-loving bejesus out of me. Her name is Mila, she from somewhere deep inside the soviet bloc, she once called me a baby when my eyes watered while waxing my eyebrows. There are few people who instill fear in me as much as Mila and now I have an appointment to take my pants off in front of her. Good lord.
I’m doing this mostly because it scares me and its been over a year since I had to undergo any serious and painful surgerys and at least 18 years since my last tatoo. Sidenote – I also really want to get another tattoo but I’m indecisive and about what and where, I feel like I might be too old and too Mom to really go crazy. Also did you know you could get your tounge tattooed? I have so many questions about this photo but the first one would be ‘why not the sistine chapel?’ – be classy people!