My therapist says I should 'journal', preferably every day. She thinks it will be good for me. I don't have to write about anything in particular; just write whatever is on my mind. So, here I am, at the deli again, writing again, not actually having anything to say again. Bless your heart for being here.
I have to confess, I don't really feel like I have much to say today. Elysian Space Dust IPA is just as gross as you'd expect an IPA to be. I'm drinking the Pluff Mud again. The deli's groan-worthy joke of the week (posted on a chalk board next to the chalk board dedicated to the current beer menu) is:
Q: What did the baby corn say to the mama corn?
A: Where's the pop corn?
Yeah. They're always that fabulously terrible.
Okay, so quick confession: I may manage to write everyday, but it won't be a post a day. Because, despite the short length of this post so far, I'm actually on day two. Bright side though, they tapped a new beer at the deli and it's surprisingly tasty. It's 21st Amendment Brewery's 'Hell or High Watermelon'. I have to confess, I did not have high hopes for a watermelon beer, but it's actually pretty good. Very summery.
Anyway, I had my yearly review at work today. It went well. Woohoo. And such. I've always been a geek-tastic, over-achiever so evaluations have never stressed me much. Hmmm. I think that makes me sound like a douche... I don't mean to. I mostly do well at work because I'm socially awkward and have no life. And I'm insecure and need affirmation. So I work harder than someone who has, like, any self esteem at all. Because I need someone else to tell me I'm worth something. Whatever. Is what it is.