9/15/17.

What better time than Friday to dump all the crap that’s been cluttering your brain. All week I shower, and drive, and join meetings while unrelated thoughts play through my mind. Never when I have spare time or a notebook in front of me, just when I’m inconvenienced by life. If I’m lucky, I remember to write down a fragment of the idea so I can write about it later. By the end of the week, though, I have a backlog of thoughts just waiting to be shared. I thought about waiting and writing out something more formal, but then I thought of the randomness that is Jenny Lawson’s Furiously Happy and said, “fuck it.” Let’s go.

Why are all the good guys already married?

I’m guessing it’s part of their nature. These guys are so great, they recognize a good thing when they’ve got it, they lock it down, and commit to it. All the good guys must have met their sweethearts young because I keep bumping into these wonderful, good natured guys. But they’ve got whole wives, a kid or two, and a happy, infuriating way of bragging about their married life while you silently curse it. I love love and all, but why couldn’t one of you wait for me?

The reheat feature on the microwave is life-changing.

Did you guys know about this? I asked a sixty-something year old guy if he knew and he exclaimed that he did not. It took me more than twenty-five years to notice this beautiful button, but hot damn – this is a game changer. I used to think the microwave was already made for reheating food – surely, it can’t be for cooking it. As I’ve grown older and wiser, my appreciation for the stove and oven has grown, and I’ve only seen microwaves as mediocre vessels for reheating what I am too impatient to cook properly. But one day I tried out that reheat button…my food tasted completely different. It tasted like day one food, not day five food. It tasted fresh and moist and real. Unless my food is labeled for microwave cooking, I’m using the reheat button. Bonus lesson: even if the plastic container you’ve bought is microwave safe, it’s not meant to be. Plastic makes things taste disgusting.

Y’all need to stop putting “proficient in Microsoft Office” on your resume.

Unless you define proficient as being able to type sentences and bullets in different colors. If you define it as “skilled,” then please explain to me how to create a pivot table in Excel. I barely know how to use the formulas feature in Excel. As for Word and Powerpoint? I learn something new and amazing every other day! I took a Lynda.com course on Powerpoint design last week and I learned how to customize layouts, arrange objects, and enter specific color values. Oh, and I figured out that there’s a button that adds those fancy-ass borders to Word docs. Who knew? Did you?

I can’t watch the Indians win, so they can win.

I’m not usually superstitious, but the last Cleveland Indians game I saw they lost. Now that I’m not watching it they’re breaking team records, AL records, possibly MLB records, and I’m just like, I’m gonna have to take one for the CITY. On game 21 of their win streak, I sensed that a test was coming. That day, the win streak and the afternoon game prompted my job to play the game in the office for all team members to see. I was like “What? What?” and then “damn.” I couldn’t watch. Then, my friend is like, “Let’s go watch the game during lunch!” The universe is cruel, but I persevered. It’s enough to know that history is being made thanks to my sacrifice. You’re welcome.

Is it possible allow men to be gallant while also maintaining your independence as a female?

The other day, a male friend of my mom’s took us both to dinner and he commented that I wouldn’t let him get the door for me. I honestly hadn’t thought of it. I lead the way when I walk so it’s just more convenient for me to open the door when it’s in front of me. But you know what I did? Started stopping before I got to the door. It was both inconvenient and awesome. I wasn’t used to that type of treatment, but I kinda liked it. It was old school and made me feel like a lady. My only fear was that it was too old school. Like reminiscent of the days when women cooked all the dinners and cleaned the house and other bull. Can I have the best of both worlds?

Scroll down and leave a reply. Tell me if I changed your life (because microwaves!) or if you have answers to any of life’s mysteries.