Less Than Ideal

I said this on my personal blog, so forgive the duplication if you read it there already, but I conditioned my hair with coconut oil yesterday and it looks like I’m wearing Soul Glo.

(Note: on my other blog, I referenced using coconut oil as hair gel. This is true. I used the coconut oil as hair gel last week. And after that disaster I was like, “No more coconut oil hair gel for THIS girl! I’m only going to use it as conditioner!” Turns out, that provides identical results: Soul Glo hair.)

My Boss James saw my hair and was like, “What was the coconut oil supposed to do?”

“I don’t know! I guess make it look like I’m wearing Soul Glo,” I responded, throwing my hands in the air.

“Um, have you thought about washing it?” Online Dater Jason asked.

“I already did,” I said, frowning.

And that’s when they burst into laughter. “You’ve already washed? Har har!”

Don’t they have loans to work on or something?

It reminds me of the time in fifth grade when my mom thought I’d look cute with short hair. Like, boy short hair. The next day, my best friend took one look at me in the hallway and put her hand over her mouth. The rest of fifth grade went down hill from there.

Speaking of less than ideal circumstances, you want to know why I couldn’t pull into the parking garage here at the office today?

Because an ambulance was blocking me! And they were putting a guy in the back on a stretcher!

I only managed to get a picture of the fire truck though. After that, a paramedic directed traffic so that I could drive up the exit ramp of the garage, which felt kind of exciting and dangerous. (I don’t do dangerous stuff much.)

Once parked, I wanted a closer picture, but I realized it would appear I was trying to photograph the guy on the stretcher, and since I wasn’t in the mood for pedestrians to stone me in front of our office, I kept walking.

Speaking of being stoned…

Kidding! None of us are stoned today. But speaking of injured mammals, I bought a cowhide rug. I confirmed with the seller that the cow was going to die anyway and didn’t die just to become my rug. (Though I do find myself petting the rug with my foot and telling the cow he was a good boy in efforts to make up with him.)

My two good boys.

I actually bought two, so now it’s like I have a herd in my bedroom.

Okay folks, I’m out of here. I’m taking a horrible CrossFit class tonight and the workout involves slamming our torsos against a pull-up bar and I need to go psych myself up for the abuse. I suppose I deserve it though, considering I walk on a cow every morning.

And yes, this is still a mortgage blog.

Happy weekend, readers!