I know that security questions like “mother’s maiden name” or “high school” aren’t very secure, but I have to say I prefer them to totally subjective ones. Yesterday, after 40 minutes on the phone trying to get our Internet working, plugging and unplugging every cord in the house, resetting and describing blinking lights to my new friend in India, the only thing standing between me and checking Facebook again was this: “Who is your favorite singer?” I must’ve groaned audibly, because the tech support guy said, “Don’t worry – you get two guesses before I have to lock you out of your account. I made one wrong guess, and he offered to give me the first letter of my answer. Luckily, that was enough.
Really, though, my answer could’ve been just about anything. Not to bring down the fairer sex or anything, but let’s face it: there are Alanis Morissette days and then there are Barry White days.
I’m notoriously bad at finishing novenas. I should probably be more ashamed of that, but it seems to be a pretty universal problem. A Facebook friend recently linked to Pray More Novenas, which allows you to sign up for daily email reminders for a variety of novenas. Simple concept, well-executed, and very helpful.
After letting my laundry pile up over the holiday weekend, I finally tackled it all the other day, including several sweaters that needed to be hand-washed. Never again. The washing was no problem; the drying was another story. Turns out it’s hard to find places to dry 15 dripping sweaters. Three days later, I’ve finally got my bed back to myself.
Today marks four years to the day since Mr. Wonderful first asked me out.
— 5 —
Christmas party season has arrived in full force. I don’t know if this is how it works in the real world too, but since my life is still mostly dictated by the academic calendar, Christmas parties seem to happen early. I’ve got one this weekend, then three (all work-related) next week, and two of those are directly back-to-back. ‘Tis the season!
‘Tis also the season for Christmas cards. I think my perfectionism is conspiring with my fine arts degree to convince me that nothing I come up with is going to be creative enough. I know – I need to get over myself. As long as I don’t scrawl my name inside the Thomas Kinkade Christmas variety pack and slap a Kwanza stamp on it, I probably won’t be judged too harshly.
Last but certainly not least (to me, anyway), I got my final grade back for the Law course I audited this semester. The instructor called my desk phone and asked me to come to his office (fairly unusual around here), and when I got there, he told me he had my test graded and we needed to go to his secretary’s office to look things over. By this point I was fairly certain I had gotten a C and was going to be fired…and then they told me that I had gotten an A (and actually, one of the highest grades out of all the 1Ls). Whew.
I should probably stop taking classes, while I’ve still got a 4.0.
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