Friday, thank heavens.

Overheard at work:
Man with the Mickey Mouse voice: “Oh Look! I found some spaghetti in my checkbook.” Shows me the piece of dried-up sauce-covered spaghetti.
Lady on the phone: “Is there a phone number I can call to make payments by phone?”
Us: “Yes. It’s xxx-xxx-xxxx”
Lady on the phone: “Oh. You mean I have to call them. Never mind.”

Old man on the phone: “Can you come get my payment? The roads are too bad for me to drive it down.”

Pretty much everybody: “My car blowed up.” Really? ‘Blowed up, huh?’ Was anyone injured in the explosion?
Also pretty much anyone: “My insurance collapsed.”
Or: “I’ve got this bill here. Do I have to pay it?”
Or: “I never open my mail.”

Afternoon phone call: “I’ll have my husband put his pants on and come down to the office.”
Please don’t.

Stopped in the office to pay: “Smells like dog shit in here!” No, it doesn’t.

Us, all the time: “You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps.”

Annette says it's black & white everywhere. I was kind of noticing the same thing. My theory about the seasonal affective disorder is that it's not just the lack of sunlight, it's the lack of color. Including in my complexion/ghostly pallor.

So here was a little antidote last night. Color!