A small miracle occurred today. I was at the pool today with my hubby (and got a great tan, I must say), and while I was chatting with the lifeguard I ended up talking to this girl that lives in the building next to mine. Her husband is also in the Navy. In this area, imagine that. Anyhow, along the way she asked me how old I am, and I told her that I am 23 and I ducked my head saying, “I know, I know, I look much younger.” And she said, “No, really. I thought you were older, like 27. You are so mature.”
I think that’s the highest compliment I’ve been paid in a while.
It’s hard for people to take me seriously. A lot of people look at me, at my baby face, and think I’m still in high school. One waitress carded me for a margarita and said, “I didn’t know they could put baby pictures on driver’s licenses.” I don’t mind getting carded for alcohol — but please keep the snide remarks to yourself. That license photo had been taken mere weeks before this took place.
I guess that’s why I miss work so much. I know, I’ve been terribly bad at updating, but there hasn’t been much to tell. As far as work goes, there’s a huge legal battle over some illegal things that were happening, so my entire department (all five of us) quit en masse on principal. That’s ok — we should be going back to work soon if the judge rules in favor of the law. But at work, people looked at the work I did and the knowledge that I had. They didn’t see a woman who looks 15 years old trying to fill a chemist’s shoes. They saw a woman who ran the lab as well as or better than the previous chemists, who knew most of the answers or how to find them out, and was willing to help out everyone any way she could. I was respected there, and it was all based on merit. That’s why I’m so nervous that it somehow won’t work out, and I’ll have to start over somewhere. But unfortunately, I will live. :o)
The funny thing is that girl I met at the pool recognized my bikini as coming from Victoria’s Secret. I told her I had to get it from there because my bosom is too large to fit into regular bikinis. She told me she had the opposite problem. :o) She gave me another compliment too — she was about a size 4, therefore looking good in her bikini, and she told me that mine looked really good on me. I had been slightly nervous about getting a bikini even though Kurt says I’m not too heavy to wear one, but then Kurt’s prejudiced. :o) And if this girl, who doesn’t even know me and therefore doesn’t have to tell little white lies to save our friendship, tells me my bikini looks good, then it must. :o)
Have I mentioned that my husband makes a stellar lasagne?!
And I haven’t even had to cook in months! :o)