Thanks for the sneaker input, y’all. I have almost made my decision since my backpack is almost 100% packed. I think I’ve decided to go with a pair of flip flops, a pair of black ballet flats and option #1, some Euro-trash New Balance tennis shoes. There. I said tennis shoes. Just like a southerner. Also, I will not be playing tennis in them. OR MAYBE I WILL. Maybe the Pope and I have a date to do just that. Who knows?!

I figure I can’t go wrong with my choices because as Laurie pointed out in the comments of my previous post, when I get to Italy the last thing I’m going to be thinking about is what’s on my feet. But then Andrea posted that actually, yes I might care, with blisters and oozing sores, I MIGHT JUST CARE. And so if I do, I will come home and fly to Madison and punch Laurie in the uterus and take all her money. And then help her up and ask her to sing me a song and make me some scones because oh my God, I freaking love Laurie.

Moving on.

Here’s the story I want to share with you because I feel like I haven’t posted a WHY I AM A TOOL post lately. So here you are. You’re welcome.

We all remember this lovely story about how my coworker caught me with sprouts hanging out of my mouth? Wait. You don’t? Okay. Go read it. I’ll wait.

Hmm. I need to paint my toenails.

All done?

Okay good! Here we go!

So, I always get nervous around this coworker. Not in a romantic I-have-a-crush-on-you way. Because, trust me, I’ve had THOSE feelings around coworkers too and that coworker is all tall and dreamy and every time he walked by my desk, I’d spill my wheat thins all over my lap. NO! This is a different office. And a different kind of nervous.

I get nervous because EVERY TIME HE’S AROUND, I am doing something stupid. I’m eating sprouts and they’re hanging all out of my mouth. Or I’m reading my favorite infertility blog so my screen is lit up in bright pink with the words A LITTLE PREGNANT, MY JOURNEY THROUGH INFERTILITY and pictures of sonograms and such. And guys, this coworker is SMART, he is WAY smarter than me and makes tons of money and EVERY TIME HE’S AROUND I am doing what I do best: acting awkward and stupid.

There is something you must know about my daily routine at work and that is the fact that without fail, in the morning and afternoon, I am usually making some kind of tea. I was introduced to this lovely little website a few months ago and I ordered a whole slew of tins of loose teas that currently line my cubicle. (My favorite is coconut! Wow, Laura! You are SO INTERESTING!)

So I bought this device for my tea. For those unfamiliar, I can fill this up with hot water, drop a tablespoon of loose tea leaves into it, let it brew and then place it onto my mug and there is a little switch that is released which allows the tea to flow noisily into my mug while the leaves stay inside. Then I can just dump the used tea leaves in the garbage. This is of course, after I let my mug fill up with tea which every day, without fail, sounds like I am peeing at my cubicle. I like to keep my coworkers on their toes.

The other day, I walked into the kitchen to empty The Tea Device of its loose tea leaves. The Very Smart And Important Coworker was in there making a cup of coffee which really threw me off because the kitchen is tiny and I CANNOT STAND PEOPLE WATCHING ME. So, I casually emptied the leaves into the garbage when my coworker said, “What is that?!”

And I started getting really nervous. Like, was he judging me? Does he think tea is stupid? Am I stupid for drinking tea? Is this because I have a BFA in Music Theatre? If I went to law school, would I be stupid and drinking tea? WHAT DOES HIS QUESTION MEAN!? WHAT IS HE TRYING TO SAY?!

So I said, “Um. It’s tea.”

“Ohhh,” he said. And stared. So I felt like I had to elaborate because it was only us in the kitchen and it was getting kind of uncomfortable.

“You know, loose tea. I can just fill this with hot water and…”

“Ohhh,” he said. “I get it.”

And then I couldn’t keep my mouth shut as I wandered over to the sink to rinse it out. I just COULDN’T LEAVE IT AT THAT.

“YEAH!” I said, startling even myself with my abounding enthusiasm, “IT’S KIND OF REALLY FASCINATING.”

Silence.

Drip drip drip of the coffee maker.

Gush of water from the sink.

Silence.

Cricket. Cricket. Tumbleweed.

Coworker walks out of kitchen, back to desk.

FASCINATING!?!??!?!?! Your little tea device is FASCINATING?!!?!?!

Holy, Laura! Why do you even open your mouth!? I mean honestly, why do you EVER choose to speak or say ANYTHING!?!?!? It’s just fucking tea! Fascinating is not a word I would use to describe it!

Fascinating is escaping from Guantanamo Bay! Fascinating is the fact that I am going to visit the Sistine Chapel in 72 hours! Fascinating is the fact that I actually thought SuperBad was a funny movie!

Tea?

Is not so…fascinating. It’s…mildly interesting.

I think my favorite part of this story is the part where my coworker didn’t even COMMENT on the awkwardness of what came out of my mouth. He just took his coffee and walked out. And then I punched myself in the face so that I couldn’t ever say anything stupid again. Or, at least for a few hours until the swelling went down.

I put some iced tea on my swollen lip. It made me feel better. Plus, it was fascinating.