Beware! The Ides of March

Nothing overly spectacular happenened on this 15th of March. I arranged for there to be a take cover drill at work, which was great because a) I wasn't around for it and b) it's great to bellow "beware the ides of march" when people ask when the next one will be. I could go on a power trip over being able to make such a productivity-wrecking event occur, but I'm rather indifferent. The real power trip could come from having people ask when they'll be and me refusing to tell them...

My biggest trauma of the day was just a few minutes ago, as I sat in black bertha and watched yet another episode of Sex and the City, shaking my head and saying aloud "Oh, it's so true. So, so true..." Next thing I know, I'll be saying "It's like on that one episode of SATC where..." Oh wait, I pulled that one last weekend, likening that moment that I refused to play nice and be friends with someone's new girlfriend to when Miranda didn't finish decorating Debbie's cupcakes. And then last night when Jennifer and I were talking about that episode where Miranda pretends to be a flight attendent to get dates. For the record, she is going to play a nurse and I'll feign librarian. Because librarians are hot...because they can read (obvi!).

Tonight, I engaged in witty banter and mild flirting with the barista through the orderbox while getting a strawberry frappuchino. It was good times, being haranged over my disdain for whipped cream on my drink. However, I could sense a bit of mutual disappointmen when I pulled up to the window and our eyes met. That's probably the fastests I've ever had a male lose interest - the span of two cars. At least he reconstitutes a good frappuchio and knows when the heck not to put whipped cream on a beverage.