Sometimes (often) I get a little excited (stupid excited) and I lose the ability to edit what I’m saying (blather on endlessly like a mental patient). Sometimes it’s cute and endearing (my family tolerates me because they have to) and sometimes not so much (Mommy, please save me from the crazy lady.).
At what point do you cross the line from wildlife photographer extraordinaire to crazy bird stalking lady?
Everyday I have some version of this conversation with my boss and it knocks a few years off my life:
Boss: When is the slab form/trim dl/plumbing supposed to be done?
Boss: Well they’re not here yet.
Me: Do you want me to call and check on them?
“Name one country in Europe.”
“There’s a girl in my class named Montana.”
“…Oh…well…Where is she?”