Damn gravity

I want to tell you a true story. You might get the impression from our blogs that we’re silly women. Or that we’re obnoxious. Or that we’re ridiculous.

This is possibly all true.

Nevertheless, I find myself more inclined to characterize us as dramatic.

The layoffs we’ve been expecting for three years are imminent. Like within the next two weeks. We’ve been wracking our brains to come up with jobs that don’t involve the industry we’ve been in for the last combined 30+ years. The thought of doing that makes us want to cry. Sadly, that’s what we’re most qualified for and our resumes are top-heavy in that industry.

Every time someone brings this to our attention with an employment possibility (none which have come to fruition yet) we don’t take the news well.

Today, someone contacted Ava about a possibility. She came out to tell me and The World’s Greatest Receptionist about it, and we didn’t take the news well.

In fact, we both threw ourselves on the floor in a fit, unwilling to take this news like adults. As we lay there, pouting, something unexpected happened. Something that had never happened  before when I’d flung myself on the floor in a work-induced fit. (I’ve done this many times in the past. I find it really makes my point with flair.)

So this thing was weird. A one in a million sort of thing.

As I was shouting, “NOOOOOOO!” in an exuberant manner, I accidentally spit in my own eye.

Ick, right? (Ava here – Ick is right and this is absolutely true. I almost choked myself to death laughing at her.)

This is not the sort of thing that happens to normal people. Presumably, normal people don’t fling themselves on the floor while at work. I don’t recommend it.