dear school of great brilliance and intelligence,
oh ye who profess to hold the keys that unlock minds...
i have a question for you—nay—a qualm, if you will, about your incessant gardening techniques:
i am going to work, on what would otherwise be a quite uneventful day. i train. which means i get to answer phones and know everything and feel more self-important at an only quasi-important job where i do at least help procrastinating students to walk at their respective graduations so grannies everywhere can shed a tear and aunts and uncles can officially feel obligated to send money.
yesterday, friday, was treat friday. teri brought her glorious bean dip among other things i should not be allowed to see. i tool my trainee on a mini tour down to the most exciting perk of the building: the ice machine. this machine is not unlike the one that would be in your jr. high school gym. (and therefore the reason you might fake injuries....) you know the kind though- the rabbit poo.
as we passed the window, the campus gardeners were ravenously destroying a perfectly good window view of the mountains by systematically tearing out all of the tulips and pansies that were planted just before graduation. in case you forgot—that was a month ago! we gave them a look of death through the window and they motioned at us to come get some. we did and then went and bought water bottles to keep them pretty all day.
why are girls so in need of fresh flowers? i am convinced that we don't need them, but yet 30-40 girls had to go down and partake. flowers make us smile, even if we know, fully well, that they will hardly live to see the next day once you take them from home. i even kept them mounted in my car while in class until i could get them safely home, only so that they would sit, all alone for the weekend with no one to admire them. what a sad and depressing life they lived.
oh- and yes i am in az for the weekend. it has already paid off and hopefully we will get to see some more people that i love here shortly. there will be a great report on already awesome events and times with my little leftover family in mesa... that i can't go more than two months without. that's a good sign i think. if you can't live more than two months... maybe i should find some more like that, huh...