winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blood is Thicker than Chocolate

Blood is Thicker than Chocolate

Why, oh why, do people bring their children into job interviews? Really. What are they thinking? If you can�t find a babysitter for a job interview (an allotment of time of about an hour) what is to lead me to believe you are going to find childcare during your work hours? Do you really think you are putting your best foot forward by letting me watch you run around my office while you beat your child because he�s climbing on my tables and tearing things off of my walls? If I had wanted to spend my day saying, �No, no. Don�t play with the computer. No, no, go to Mommy. No, no, don�t eat the leaves off of my plant. No, no, no,� then I�d have locked my own children in a closet for three days and then brought them to work with me. Notice how I didn�t do that? Yeah, could you get your child off of my desk, now?

I kid you not, (heh) I watched this woman run around after her two-year-old, whopping it on the head with a phone book and then looking at me and doing that annoying nervous laugh thing and saying, �Heh, naptime. (shrug)�

So you know what I do? As they are leaving, I reach in my side drawer and I pull out one of the chocolate bars or suckers that I have stashed there and hand it to them. �There you go, sweety. You have a nice day with Mommy.�

On a related note:

This is how my family works: my sister tells me tells me that my father is being treated for arsenic poisoning. �Oh no,� she assures me, �it wasn�t mom.�

(D�oh)

I�m also told that when my father found out that my mother would be the primary suspect if he died of arsenic poisoning, he was so amused by the concept that he refused medical treatment for two days. Yeah, I come from strong stock, I do.

On a completely different subject:

A friend of mine asked the other day, �What would it take to throw away a winning lottery ticket?� He, of course, was talking about a marriage that is financially lucrative but not emotionally satisfying. Anyway, it got me thinking. How hard would it be for me to throw away a winning lottery ticket if I knew that part of the pay out might mean my happiness? Hm. I guess that I could say that I�ve done it once, already with Brian, the Aerospace Engineer turned Preacher. He was the smart bet when it came to comfort and knowing that I would never be obligated to think for myself and therefore never have to take responsibility for mistakes that I would never get to make. But, when it came down to it, I knew that no amount of money or social comfort could keep me in that relationship. I knew that I wouldn�t have come out of it alive.

So, I guess my answer would be: how desperate are you? For some people, money really can buy happiness. For me, money just buys sharper knives.

2:38 p.m. - 2003-05-08

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next