After much hemming and hawing I decided to embark again on full-time gainful employment and started my new job as an Employment Specialist at a non-profit group here in Huntington. It's a nice place but I have to undergo TONS of training. Today's lesson began like this:
"Here's how you turn on your computer!"
Ugh. Choke me with a mouse cord. If you can figure out what that is (if not - come join me for tomorrow's training: "How to catch your Mouse.")
First thing on the "DO NOT DO" list was "DO NOT DOWNLOAD AOL." See, AOL? Even the smalltown places are on to you! So that means that I will not be blogging during work hours. Drats. I hate that - I mean - c'mon - what am I supposed to do - work? Uck. Perish the thought! :)
I came home today from work and made a skillet of frozen stir fry. I added oil, tweaked the pan up to "high" and sat back to watch it sizzle. Opening the packet of sauce that accompanied it, I blanched as the aroma filled my nostrils.
It reminded me of - something. I took a larger sniff, careful not to drip the brownish goop on to my new white tee. What is that? Beef base? Soy sauce? With a sudden realization I jerked and almost dropped the plastic implant looking package on to my Coach Valeri shoes.
"Holy crap! It smells like Catlax!" Yes. The sauce that was destined to cover my stirred and fried veggies smelled identical to the goo that I spread on to Phoebe's shaved paws to ensure that hairballs fly out the bottom end instead of the top.
With that lovely mental image fresh in my frontal lobe I doused the veggies and pretended, hard, to enjoy the aroma.
I ate one piece of broccoli. Chewed. And spit it out.
Sighing, I got up, tossed my plate in the sink along with the rest of the CatLax Stir Fry in as well. Getting out a can of tuna, I poured it into a bowl, licked my fingers clean and took it into Phoebe who is still not feeling well and was fed dinner in bed.
"Figures," I said to her as she stuttered and purred and struggled to her little shaved feet. "My cat eat betters than I do." She coughed at me in agreement.
In her defense, even as emaciated and shaggy as she is - she's still cuter than me!
Tomorrow's training: Pharmacology 101. "This is a pill."