The place where I work is the first corporate environment I have ever experienced that does not provide you with all the free coffee you could want. You gotta join a "club" and bring in your own ground coffee to placate the masses. I, sir, shall have none of it. I bring in my own water and teabags instead (oh yeah, did I forget to mention that you have to pay monthly dues to be allowed to use the water coolers? wtf?). It's either that, or drinking icky city water- which, admittedly, I was exposed to for three-odd years with no ill effect.
Tea, Earl Grey, hot is not bad to have around, especially since my cube (I lovingly refer to it as the "Cubicle of Doom") is strategically situated underneath an air-conditioning vent that spews forth iciness all day long. But tea just doesn't pack the same caffeinated wallop of good ol'-fashioned black coffee. Well, lemme tell you, folks: I just got my first cup of coffee here at home in over a week, and I'm juiced up enough run a friggin' marathon and wash your car for you afterward. It's a good thing for humanity's sake that I no longer live within walking distance of a Starbucks.
So anyway- garage sale today at my place. I pitched in and did some pricing last night, and rescued some stuff that was put up for sale without my knowledge or consent, but I refuse to help sell things. You see, my mom was raised in a culture where you never pay the sticker price on anything, and everyone knows it, yet even so, haggling on price can last for hours. Need I go on?
I need to do something with all this hyperness. I was thinking dance party in the living room. BTW, got my cheapo ballet slippers for my wedding ensemble, such as it is, heh. No way am I spending the day in three-inch-heel footkillers that no one's going to see under my dress anyway!