On my way to work this morning I was rocking out to the mix CD I mentioned before. One of my favorite songs was playing (Gasoline by Jann Arden) so I was singing along at the top of my lungs, completely uncaring that everyone I passed looked at me like I was challanged or something. Good songs do that to me, I have to sing along. So I am passing a trucker and happen to look over and he is waving at me and mouthing the words "nice lips" then holds up a piece of paper with a phone number on it. EEEWWWW! Yucky. I floored it and got as far away from him as I could. Just what I need is a random and pretty grungy looking trucker to point out my big ol' fatty lips! I was rather happy to get to work.
I got new shoes for work and I think I need to get some inserts so I can be "gellin like Majellin" and my poor little feet won't hurt every night. That is the one thing that sucks about working in a Department Store, there is no sitting down on the job, My Sissy tried to tell me but I didn't listen.
I have an evening of talking in code ahead of me while I re-do Sissy's layout. I think I might do mine too, I am not really diggin the green, but I am doing her's first so maybe it will grow on me, before I get to it.
So as Slater said in Dazed and Confused Check ya later!