I get there and not too far into the shift, here comes my stalker. ANOTHER coworker, not me, walked by, saying, "I just don't want to fool with Stalker today. He needs to go find something else to do." Only she didn't say "fool", and she called his real name.
I laughed and said, "Welcome to my world."
Seriously, though, he really does need to just go away. Even though we don't speak any more -- and when an INTJ says she'll never speak to someone again, you can bet your sweet bippy that someone will never get spoken to again, at all, ever -- he still can't leave me alone. A couple of weeks ago, when it was so hot in the plant, I'd put my hair up in a bun one day, to keep it up off my neck. Stalker went around telling the other brazers, "Becky's got her hair up in a bun." I guess he thought they didn't have eyes of their own. Or whatever.
In spite of that, the day seemed to go by pretty quickly. It helped that they cut us back to 10 hours instead of 11 or 12. Still, I think what I missed most about being off was being able to play my piano as much as I want to, without feeling rushed. I think yesterday, I played for about 2 hours -- not all at once, but totaled up. I don't play my guitar nearly that much, mainly because it hurts my hand. I can do the individual notes, but when I try to make chords, my hands start hurting. I think this is what Cody meant when he spoke about building up finger strength. Practice will help, and also, figuring out how hard to push down on the strings. It's got to be hard enough the note sounds clear, but not so hard I make my hand sore. Again, that will come with practice.
Enough about that, though.
You know my friend who has the Etsy shop? The one who makes candles, soap, and things? Well, a few days ago, I ordered some things from her. I'm not going to tell you what, because they're going to end up being Christmas gifts. Anyway, she shares my fondness for, nay obsession with, survival gear. The things I ordered arrived today, and when I opened the box, I discovered she'd sent me a surprise!
I love it! It's going into my bug out bag post haste! How in the world did I get so lucky to have such wonderful friends?
This is her latest soap creation.
She'd posted a picture of it on FB, saying it looked a lot like SPAM. The meat, that is, not the annoying emails. Thus, it became known as the SPAM soap. When I pulled the wrapping off, I said, "Dang, it really does look like SPAM." Thank goodness, it doesn't smell like SPAM.
I keep saying I'm going to try to get her to make me a custom candle that smells like salt air, diesel fuel, creosote, and dead fish -- and call it Bolivar Ferry Landing. What do you say, Kristine? I can hear the seagulls already...
I'm just kidding. But not really...Though I do think the sweet feed and saddle leather one would sell.
And finally, I'm not exactly sure what Rylea was doing here, but she was certainly getting into it.
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