You Pray For Rain . . .

Training . . . training . . . training . . . also known as long shifts at the register with no breaks . . . Had a decent day at work, actually. The two new kids are sweet . . . not as vibrant as some of the other wild and crazies I work with, but they seem alright. Course, part of it is that I see them as competition. I saw my scores on the little test we took online in the app . . . I have the third highest of the last year’s hires. Well, well, well. Turns out that I perform nicely on standardized tests about my morals . . .haha. Just kidding.

Saw Merry Wives the other night, up at APT . . . Oh my word . . .

I wish I had something really exciting to tell all of you, but I mostly just work . . . I mean, I go out, I work . . . I go out . . . Spent Saturday night/Sunday morning waiting for Jaquelyn’s bus with her. Two am is a little much even for me to be out . . . especially with church the next morning. And then the play with the girls . . . (Thomas’s fam was there too, to support Sarah’s show . . . we can’t decide who is stalking whom we seem to run into each other all the time.)

Next week I turn twenty-two. Twenty two. Blah.

The girls from work are going to have a little drinking party tomorrow night at Frances. I think I might make a cameo, just to say hello. I think I’m supposed to watch Mel’s dogs again that night though . . . so I won’t be able stay to watch the drunken festivities.

But apparently I’ll get to be the main guest of some next week for my birthday.


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