{just a dream}

I was working this morning. Sometimes I do that, watching people swim and stuff. For the record: you do not want to know what other kind of stuff goes on. Yikes.

Anywho, I rotated over to a very empty competition pool only to find the guard I was sent to rotate staring out the window. Upon further inspection I took note that she was watching two people outside hanging out in the pool. She informed me that they were the janitors. Cleaning the pool.

And just like that I turned into a raging green eyed monster.

No, for realsies.

How awesome would that job be?

Like, the best job ever. Getting paid to chill in the pool. Working on your tan. The occasional flip off the diving board (only NOT flips because that is SO not allowed). Seriously. I stood there for 20 minutes in envy. Pure envy. I had to stand there fully clothed making sure they didn't drown. While they got paid to swim. And maybe scrub the side of the pool. Minor details, whatev.

But then they got out of the pool and, well, went on their janitorial way. Which brought to mind that they probably had to go scrub some toilets and junk like that. At which time my rage subsided and I realized that my saving lives gig may not be so bad. Mostly because I get to work on my tan (at least as much skin as I can possibly get exposed wearing that sexy guard shirt/short combo) and I don't have to scrub any toilets. Fantastic? Possibly.

So even though I have to chant 100 times daily 'I am grateful to have a job' followed by 100 'I love my job' I dig my gig.

Plus it gives me massive amounts of time to think about you. And a reason to shave my legs. And paint my nails. Not that I wouldn't do any of those things without any sort of pressure.

Also, I stumbled upon this and thought to myself 'well self, isn't that cute'

But then I realized it's not. Gardens mean you have to weed and books mean you have to read. Not my two favorite things.

What it should say is that if you have a bff like mine, a handful of swim suits and some sparkly nail polish you have not only all you need, but all you should even ask for.

And to sum up the above thoughts: You know when you start thinking about... stuff... and your inner 15 year old comes out in all it's laughing/squeeling/imsoinlovewithnothingicoulddie glory, but you don't want to look like a tool and LOL for no reason so you try not to but then it just makes you feel like you're going to throw up, but a good kind of throw up.

Yeah? Welcome to my life.