Waterworks

I have cried at work at least once every single day this week.

This does not make me a stellar employee.

One time it was because my boss asked me how I was doing. The other times it was more legit, but not by much.

I don't cry at work. I'm not that girl. So I don't know what's wrong with me. Other than that we have inordinate amounts of work to do and literally everyone else in my department is either sick, hurt, or on vacation. So there's just me to do the work of 4 people.

Still, I don't normally get too stressed out. I can work hard.

So again, I don't really know what's wrong with me.

I could use a week on a beach. Any beach. But since that's not possible until September, I'll settle for a one-day weekend. (We have a Sunday turnover that I get to work.)

No crying at work today! It's my goal!

Song of the Day: Sugarcane by Missy Higgins (Oh, how I love this song...)

Found

One of the perks of my job is collecting Lost and Found. It is incredible what people will leave at camp and never claim. Expensive coats and shoes, phones, whole suitcases, etc.

But what's even more fun than the "I can't believe you didn't claim this" stuff is the notes/journals/books that people leave.

I have personally found more than one love note, several journal entries written by 12 year-olds, various scorecards and game rules, hilarious signs in dorm bathrooms, and many, many letters from moms.

Along that vein, one of my favorite websites is foundmagazine.com. Found Magazine is exactly what it sounds like. People find things, scan them, and send them in.

There are a lot of serious ones, old pictures, lists, etc. but these are my favorites:

Shameful

I don't know if you all know this, but I'm a wuss. Seriously. I know for sure that in a fight or flight situation, I will choose flight. I am not proud of this, but it is true.

I tell you this in order to preface the story I'm about to share. A shameful story from my recent past.

As you know, I love baseball. And in my top 5 life goals (along with traveling to every continent and being on the Wheel of Fortune) is catching a foul ball. I go to a lot of baseball games. I want this to happen.

And about a month ago, I got a prime chance.

Cactus League Spring Training was in Phoenix and there was approximately 6 feet of snow on the ground in Williams, so a few of my friends and I decided it was the perfect time to go soak up some sun and watch some baseball. We went to Phoenix, did some shopping, and headed out the beautiful Spring Training home of the Royals/Rangers.

We payed our $7 and got our seats. As we made our way, I realized we were sitting in the 2nd row, towards the outfield, on the 3rd base line. I turned to my friends and, in a very excited voice, yelled, "This is prime foul ball territory! I'm totally going to catch one!"

Three innings later and someone I wasn't really paying attention to was up to bat. (Turns out I don't really care about the Rangers.) I watch the pitch go in, I hear the crack of the bat, and I see it. The ball is flying directly towards us.

People around me start shouting, my adrenaline starts pumping, and what do I do? I scream (loudly), cover my face, and duck. Where does the ball land? On the empty chair in front of me.

I straighten up and realize my friends are cracking up, the ball has hit a grandpa in the face, and a man sitting 4 seats down from me ended up with it.

And I was shamed. Shamed, I tell you.

Next time I want to sit in prime pop-up foul ball territory. Much less scary.

Song of the Day: More Like Her by Miranda Lambert (It's getting to the point in the year where I like country music.)