No More Tank Top

I have not been having a super duper day, but in the efforts of trying not to become Debbie Downer (rather than just act like her), I will quickly vent my issues and then speak of them no more.

My office smells like Starbucks (which would be a good thing) except it is because I spilled a whole cup and I have coffee in my computer, stapler and tape dispenser. Not a good thing. My breakfast of Vanilla Chai Naked Juice was GROSS and it makes me gag to even smell it. All of those stupid problems are just that -- stupid, as I was reminded when I got my weekly "INtake Blog Question." It was about Hurricane Katrina. Not only did I feel bad for feeling bad about my stupid problems, but I became frustrated at my loss for words. Nothing I can write will be able to convey my feelings properly. Especially nothing in a nice little paragraph, with correct grammar, trying to be unique and intelligent all at the same time. I just had no energy for it this morning, and my paragraph seemed very trite in the whole scheme of things.

So, onto something more positive, which as random as it may sound made me laugh. I got an email today from a gentleman inquiring about the USRowing Logo Men's Tank Top in the online catalog. While, I am sure it was a big ticket item in the 80s, we stopped carrying the male tank tops. He told me in his email he was "hoping to get it replaced." After I emailed him and told him of our lack of male tank tops, he replied very politely:

"Sorry to here (sic) that you don’t have the tank top any longer."

Why that was so funny to me, I have no clue. I guess I just pictured this little man from Connecticut all upset about his tattered USRowing Logo Tank Top. Men in tank tops tickle me pink.

I also had a dream about Eddie Vedder and Tom Cruise. Tom Cruise was trying to make me become a Scientologist. In my dream, becoming a Scientologist involved getting a necklace with a gold medallion on it. Thankfully, I politely declined. Tom was very angry. I also believe he was wearing a black leather jacket, but that is besides the point.

So, onto better days tomorrow.
Oh, and I love Harry Connick Jr.