My mother has come to Grandma’s for the evening. She and Grandma were meeting with the kitchen designer and then going to see some houses to steal ideas on the Parade of Homes today. They will also be doing the Parade of Homes tomorrow as well while I’m at work, sweating my proverbial nuts off because the airflow in my place of employment is less than ideal. It would be just my luck that I find somewhere to work that allows me to freeze my tits off during the frozen tundra we experience here on the west side of the state and then burn the hell up during the summer months.
I don’t think there is anything on this earth I hate more than being hot. I just complained about freezing my tits off this past winter, but I would gladly take that over what I currently experience at work. I mean, sometimes it’s just not professional to hang out with no pants on to keep cool. Sometimes it’s not professional to cry and dry heave and behave like a pissed off infant because you’re uncomfortably warm.
Also, I don’t know if it’s that I have some freak genetic mutation or if it’s something else, but, dude, my feet get freakishly hot. Then, because that’s not sexy enough, they swell like three sizes larger so they’re, like, squished all up in my normal-sized, under-regular-conditions-these-shoes-fit shoes. So, when I can finally bust my feet out and get them back in shoes conducive to my way of life (i.e. flip flops), they’re all red and sweaty and sore and generally offensive. It’s embarrassing!
(I know this makes no difference because it’s only my own time that I’m wasting, but I’m currently taking a face-memory test from BBC (or something?). I found the link by playing one of my favorite online games. The game tests your reaction speed to sheep running across your screen and you shot tranq darts at them. It’s fun. Anyway, I had a five minute break in between faces, so I gotta go take the third test. Brb.)
(Okay, I was just gonna carry on with my original thoughts, but my face-memory test results have pretty much astounded me. And, I’m pretty impressed with myself. So, I suggest you take the face memory test, ACTUALLY ABIDE BY THE 5 MINUTE BREAK RULE!, and tell me your results in a comment! My scores were as follows:
Recognition score
( if you saw it )
| Your score: 100% |
 |
 |
  |
| Average score: 92% |
This is a measure of your ability to remember the photos you’ve seen, regardless of the part in which you saw them. From all 24 photos shown in Parts 1 & 2, you recognised: 24 photo(s).
Temporal memory score
( when you saw it )
| Your score: 91% |
 |
 |
 |
| Average score: 68% |
This is a measure of how often you recognised a photo and matched it to the correct part, instead of just remembering which ones you’d seen. From all the photos you recognised, you matched: 22 photo(s) to the correct part.
Yeah. I’m kind of a big deal. Check that memory out. What an excellent skill!)
I guess my point is that I would rather be cold than hot.
Oh, that, and my grandma makes egg salad for me. I like it on triscuts. It’s cute because she’s trying so hard to make food she knows I like slash will eat. And I actually do like egg salad, despite the fact that it smells foul and I’m embarrassed to eat it front of others. The only thing is, I hate dill.
Grandma puts dill in her egg salad. And I just never have the heart to tell her that I can totally make it myself. Actually, it’s that I never remember I like egg salad until she tells me there is some in the fridge, and by then it’s already made and I can’t tell her I hate dill. Hello, it’s not like I can just pick it out. (I tried.)
But really, it’s sweet. So, i eat it. And then kinda forget about it, and let her eat it.
Do you like egg salad? How do you eat it? Are you embarrassed to eat it around others, too?
adventures from grandma's attic 