Friday, May 22, 2009

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Life is moving full speed ahead at our house. Mom and Dad (mine) have decided to purchase a house to live in for retirement, or as I call it, the Grandparent Suite. Until they are ready to take up residence there, they are going to allow Hubby and myself to live there. Bonus!! So, we've spent the better part of this week researching properties. Can't wait!

In other news, I found out the hard way I have developed an allergic reaction to amoxycillin. Yes, I broke out in tiny bumps all over my body after recovering from whatever had my down and out in my last post. If you want to know what makes me look even more attractive than running a fever and having severe seasonal allergies, it's developing a massive amount of tiny bumps all over my chest, back, and neck. I will spare you the pictures. Suffice to say, I looked kind of like a child with tiny chicken pox. Or you can google "amoxycillin reaction" as my coworkers and I did. I do not recommend this. You probably won't be able to eat dinner. I looked like that. Yeah.

Hubby finished his last days at Kaldi's this week. I would say it ended bittersweetly, but really it was much further on the bitter side than it was sweet. You see, if being understaffed and overworked on the last day wasn't enough to make him glad to go, God decided to make sure he knew it was best to leave. About an hour before he was scheduled to finish his last shift, when the coffee house was packed to the brim, the water heater broke. The health inspector got tipped off, and the place was closed. And like that, Hubby's experience at his first job out of college was over. No happy goodbyes. No hugs from customers. The health inspector apologized for the timing of the issue, and we went to grab a beer. Adios!

I met with my new bosses this week. I am incredibly pumped to be working in their office come fall. We chatted, I got to see the office and then we headed to lunch. I was warned that we were going to do lunch in one of the most swankified places in our town, The University Club. This is where wealthy alums and townspeople go for great food and service. I, being a small-town, country bumpkin at heart was flooded with two contradictory feelings when I was invited to this lunch. One one hand, I had never been invited to eat at the lovely establishment. I was excited for the chance to try the food I had heard so much about and share in great conversations with my new bosses. On the other hand, I am the kind of person that says "friggin" and never orders the right thing and doesn't always claim to know a salad fork from a dinner fork. Thus, I was a teensy bit nervous at the formality of such a venue. I arrived without tripping up the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief.
Ordering was tricky; I was trying to find something simple to eat so as not to make a mess. I am traditionally messy no matter what I eat. I settled on a salmon club since salmon is my favorite and I figured a sandwich couldn't be too difficult. Boy, was I wrong!! The sandwich was a double decker held together with shiny-topped toothpicks. I could take only one bite of each section before it exploded into smitherines, leaving me, my fork, my knife, and sometimes my fingers, to try to put it all back together. I was sure by the second of four sections that everyone in the restaurant knew I was not supposed to be there. As if they didn't already know when they realized I was under 30.
Resigning to the fact that I needed to finish picking at my explosion, I agreed to dessert. I immediately dropped the brownie tongs onto the ground and tried to pick them up to give to a waiter. With no waiter in my line of vision, I just looked like an idiot holding dirty tongs that I had caused to fall to the ground. The older gentleman behind me was obviously perturbed and begged me to leave them on the ground. Awkward. I also managed to stab my lemon tart with the other set of tongs, leaving part of my tart on the tongs themselves. I was in such disarray, I forgot to pick up a spoon for my sherbet. I arrived at the table, picked up the wrong spoon, and proceeded to dig into my sherbet without putting my napkin in my lap. Sweet.
During this time, we were also talking shopping. One of the ladies asked me my favorite place to shop, and although we had been talking of Ann Taylor and White House, Black Market, I blurt out "Oh, I mostly shop at Target." Yeah, you can tell I was a little nervous. Turns out, she was asking my favorite mall. I went back to work and crawled under my desk and held my ear for a while. Just kidding. But I wanted to. I am sure in my head this is all a little more dramatic than it was. And actually, I had a lovely time. I am so excited to start working in the office with the lovely ladies.

Well, Pete's birthday is today. Happy Birthday to one of my favorite brothers. Between you and Mark, I couldn't ask for better siblings. I love you dearly and will miss living with you come winter.

Here's to Memorial Day!

1 comment:

  1. My daughter had the same reaction to amoxil. She now cannot have any type of penicillian just in case. We thought she had the chicken pox too (even though she had already had them). She was 5 and it was Christmas when she had these hives & bumps. Makes for nice family photos. :-) Happy recovery.