Yesterday was a typical Monday.
Work, work, dinner, work.
With a break for Easy A.
I would like to now proclaim my love for Stanley Tucci, in anything he does.
Also, Emma Stone is pretty funny. All in all, cute movie.
Love a teenage comedy on a weeknight.
Up next on the agenda:
Let me tell you a quick story.
Three times a year (the next of these times being tomorrow), I have a call to go over materials to send to a meeting with a program director.
We go over a checklist of items.
Things like: agenda, handouts, pens.
Check, check, check.
And then, then it comes.
Yes…says my director.
At this point, she’s waiting for the next item.
The one that I hate saying, three times a year.
Because the next thing that comes out of my mouth is:
And of course, I’ll send the sticky balls.
This is when I furiously mute the phone and giggle like a high schooler as she says,
Great, sounds like we’re done.
The “sticky balls” are actually used like rain sticks at a tribal meeting, and whoever has them at the meeting gets to speak.
I really wish I could send a rain stick instead.
Anyway, think of me as I try to control myself in a professional manner.
Check you later, chickadees.