The Trifecta: Old, Fat, and Small Boobs

This story I'm about to tell all happened within 30 minutes. I shit crap you not. Look. I cussed. You know it's real.

Recently, I stopped by my old job to visit Matchmaker Coworker. Someone else was there that I hadn't seen in awhile.

Forever-Single Old Guy: You look...different.

Co-Worker: It's her eyelashes. She looks cute.

Me: Do I look old? I'm almost 32.

Forever-Single Old Guy: I think you've put on a few pounds.

Me: ::mouth drops open::

Forever-Single Old Guy: You filled out. It's good. You look more...mature.

Me: So I'm fat...and old. Fantastic.

I've put on 3 pounds since I worked there. Three pounds. Obviously, it's 3 pounds of muscle. Grrrr....

After this exchange, I decided to hide in my cubicle for the rest of the day. But back in my new building, I found a bake sale in the lobby.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: Would you like to buy something from our fundraiser?

Me: No, thank you.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: We have healthy stuff, too: fruit, granola bars...water.

Me: Seriously?

Back at my desk, I showed Ddot the t-shirts Matchmaker Coworker and I were wearing for a special event.

We mispelled Ddot.

Ddot: So these are Matchmaker's boobs?

Me: No.... They're mine.

Ddot: They look....

Me: Too big to be mine. I know. It's the font.

Ddot: No, the hair...looks like....

Me: Just let it go....

Who knew all of that was possible before 10 AM? That, my friends, is why I blog.

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