To the world, you are one person...but to one person, you are the world!

�Therapy. It isn't just for breakfast anymore!
2004-09-29 at 11:23 p.m.

Therapy...it isn't just for breakfast anymore! I had fun at work. Typically, I try to make people smile at least once throughout my interaction with them throughout the evening, even if they are acting like complete dickheads to me. I have noticed that other people just aren't LIKE that. They don't go out of their way to spread love, joy, flower petals and sunshine like I do. (OK, that may be a teeeeeeeny bit extreme, but it's pretty close...) Except for Fred. I just love Fred! He tawks in that Bawston accent, and always greets me with a big, "Heyyyy, Sue!" I smile when I hear his voice, even tonight when I couldn't see his face through the office window, all covered with papers, mail folders, and other interactive memos. He brought me two containers of homemade fudge. Seems he bought four pounds of it "for the wife," and she would only accept two pounds due to her diet. (I'd like to TRY this new "two pounds of fudge" diet!) "Yeah," he said, "It's really good! Got it at the blah-blah-blah farm market center, hand-made by (wasn't listening) and it's the best in the county!" I vaguely recalled him adding in something about it being made from goat's milk, but somehow managed to completely tune that part out. I thanked him profusely, and set it on my desk. Tried some an hour later, it was DELICIOUS... then suddenly, the whole goat's milk issue came crawling into my mind and completely grossed me out. As my mouth was watering for another piece, my mind was reeling with the thought of a scraggly brown goat producing the main ingredient with her wire-haired, saggy little goat teats. YUCK. I tried to think about the fact that I like COW'S milk, and how is that so different? It isn't, right? Just milk. All female mammals are capable of lactation, and humans drink lots of different kinds of milk. My mouth still tasting the sweet and slight cocoa taste, I had another piece. The goat visual came back. I put the fudge away.
Sitting back, feet on the desk, I wondered who would appreciate such a confection. Anyone? Everyone? No one? Then it occurred to me... I can have FUN with this! I took it upstairs and gave it to a couple people who were eating steak bombers in the dark (no electricity yet, remnants of the flood damage from Frances) and offered it to them. I did not divulge the source of the milk it was prepared with, as I walked back to my office with a devious grin. I waited until they came down to ask how it was. They LOVED it! Then, I dropped my bomb.
Funny thing, they couldn't have cared less! I could have told them it was made with pig shit, and they'd have still enjoyed it. Firemen WILL eat anything.
A few pieces still left, I started TELLING people what it was made of. NO REACTION! Am I the only one who thinks this is kind of gross?
Finally, 20 minutes before I left, I offered some to Tom, leaving out the goat detail. He declined politely. I told him, "Really, try some! It's made with HUMAN BREAST MILK!!!"
FINALLY, a reaction out of someone! LMAO!!!!!
(He ate some.)
I know, I need help.

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The Bedbugs Bit Me - 2005-05-16

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