RECOGNIZING MY ASS
I have been at my place of employment for what seems like an improbably long time. They keep promoting me and raising my pay and giving me different and more interesting work to do so I keep staying. I was recently informed of an upcoming anniversary and told of the policy that allows me to “choose” a “gift.” (Quotation marks are because I have some philosophical problems with the idea of choosing a gift. Doesn’t that make it not a gift? Anyway.)
Besides the fact that I choose it myself, the gift comes with several complex stipulations. I am not allowed to choose money, a gift card, or things like travel, hotel, or spa vouchers because that is considered taxable. It has been indicated to me that it would be preferable if the gift were something that could be bought from Amazon. The gift is supposed to cost $150 or be as near as possible to that amount.
Of course any first-world fool could put together a $150 Amazon cart lickety-split, but I know my supervisor would like me to get a thing, something concrete that can be pointed to in the sense of “We award you this thing for your mumblenumber years of fairly adequate service.” I don’t wear a watch. I don’t currently own any jewelry that costs anywhere near $150, and I don’t know if I want to. I am not really a purse person, and although I am slightly obsessed with the seatbelt bags, I already own the size I wanted for work stuff and don’t really need another. I would like a new food processor but that’s too much money, I need a new wallet but that’s not enough money. Fancy electric toothbrush? Expensive knife? This appallingly overpriced facegoop? Suggestions? Help me acquire things I possibly do not deserve!
The only two material desires I have in the category of “frivolous indulgence just for me” are a high-end vibrator or a portable vaporizer to use with completely legal or at least decriminalized herbs. (Cough…but one coughs less with a vaporizer! Or so I hear!) My boss is a lovely person but I cannot imagine her efficient, LL-Bean-wearing self encountering such an expense report.
DON’T WORRY I GOT THIS
Speaking of work, there is a dude who is supposed to create a presentation that is part of a big meeting. I am sadly in charge of assembling all the bits and reports for the big meeting, and said dude is dragging his dudely feet like crazy and everything is complete except for his bit. I am very close to telling him I will do it myself. I will add his name to every slide and insert awesome clip art of my choosing. Hope you like large, veiny cocks, bro! I bet there are some awesome PowerPoint effects I could add to make them glisten and glow.
NEITHER A HAMMOCK NOR A FUTON
LT and I needed a new mattress. Neither one of us can remember exactly how old our mattress is, and we have never liked it in the first place. Our mattress of indeterminate age is pretty damn saggy and creaky and feels about as still and stable as a pile of Pop-Tarts. Whenever one of us has insomnia or a cold or itchiness or just can’t lie still for some reason, the other one ends up feeling every twitch and quietly seething. GODDAMMIT, LOVE OF MY LIFE: QUIT MOVING OR LEAVE THE BED.
I tried to research mattresses on the internet. Never do this. It’s true that every purchase of every item in the world can be researched to death these days—indecision paralysis is a true modern affliction—but mattresses are a special kind of pre-purchase research hell. Everyone’s got a violently extreme opinion that conflicts with everyone else’s violently extreme opinion. You can spend anywhere from a few hundred bucks to tens of thousands. All the mattress companies seem to deliberately switch model names around so that it is impossible to comparison shop.
We ended up going to a real-world mattress store, and although I threatened to wear a Tyvek suit because I think unsheeted mattresses are super-gross, I managed to deal. We had a chill mattress salesguy who sold us a mattress, a rather expensive one that felt way better than a pile of Pop-Tarts. It gets delivered today and I cannot wait to go to bed.
(I am not going to mention the brand name or even the type, because I am sure someone will write and tell me how much it sucks. Seriously, just go read some mattress reviews. Mattress people be CRAZY.)
—mimi smartypants lives a quiet private life in the marshes of Sqornshellous Zeta.