I've worked for one man and three women over the course of my twelve years in the workforce. Two of those women were awesome bosses. They kicked back, let me do my thing and knew that I had their backs in a pinch.

I have a pair of purple Frye flats that I bought about a season before the latest Frye boots trend hit. Those flats were my official "I'm a damn grown-up" shoes. I've worn a hole through the soles of both shoes, and I should find a cobbler to find a cobbler to repair them. Even with the holes, whenever I have to meet…

Tomorrow's my 10th anniversary. (Say it with me now: dude!) In my ten years of being a wife/spouse/partner/actualized human being, there is one important rule about being married that I feel I must pass on:

While part of me rolls my eyes at Heather Turgeon's study, another part of me is convinced she explained the "Girl in Crisis" haircut one too many times, and decided to prove it once and for all with Science.

@Hannah: At this stage, I'm considering an air filter for the house and my cube.

I read places like Making It Lovely and Soule Mama and hate myself.

I don't know how to deal with the following:

@Hazel: Oh! Oh! My UPS guy is actually totally hot. He's also twenty and working his way through school, but boy howdy, he's adorable.

Ten bucks says that as he was writing the article, he was conveniently forgetting the boring Saturday afternoons where he slid into a funk for no good reason, the buyer's remorse of a new car or a house or a piece of furniture, or the professional setbacks that left him grumbly for a week.

I propose we begin a second, glorious age of ocenliner travel.

@Le Kangourou de Kataroo: I want the freaking Jeeves alarm clock. It is the only thing I specifically asked for this year. I mean who wouldn't want to hear Stephen Fry as Jeeves say "Good morning, sir*. I am glad to see that you have survived the night" every single morning?

@TheFormerJuneBronson: There is no such thing as too much capsaicin.

@TheFormerJuneBronson: I aim to be service-y!

I'm trying to decide if I can shake a migraine hangover enough to make sugar cookies that I wouldn't actually be allowed to eat. The ratios are not working out in the cookies' favor.

I've taught myself that the only person who wants to hear about the technical aspects of my knitting or my very limited research into the late Roman Republic is my mother. It was getting to be so bad that I had to develop a mental checklist:

@phanie: Dating someone with a foot fetish? Odor eaters just don't cut it?

The woman who sits directly behind me at work will decide halfway through the workday that her outfit "smells funny" and will proceed to douse herself in Eau du Beep Allergies.

Oh, c'mon. You know George Michael clipped this article and left it somewhere for Maeby to find.

@veronykah: Well, the season is mostly over for now, but here's what you do:

@Danielle Kouyoumdjian: Also, I sent you a PM so as not to totally jack the thread.