Everybody is best friends on Saturday. We all talk throughout the week, but on Saturdays the secrets come out. We take more breaks than we're alotted, but nobody seems to have a problem with it. There are several runs to Starbucks, Jamba Juice, etc. throughout the day. When we go over call reports, Saturdays are horrible, of course, but it's just expected. ("You went a good 20 minutes last Saturday and didn't make a single call?" "Well Jen was telling me about how horrible her husband's been lately and..." "Oh, did you hear what her mother-in-law did the other day?!").
I'm the one that has ideal relationships in this crowd. The comments I get: "Well we can't all have a bread boy like you, Andrea," "But he's still so sweet to you after all of that? Where do you find these men, Andrea?" "Marriage was the worst mistake of my life, but you're going to be happy with it, Andrea, I'm sure of it." (I was told that last one at a point when I wasn't even dating anyone). Most of their ideas about how perfect things are for me are, of course, false. And of course dating someone is very different than being married, and most of my co-workers are either married or have been married before, but nonetheless, at least I can be happy that I don't have the jerkwads most of them are with for boyfriends and husbands. All the people I've ever dated have been very nice guys. I suppose I've been lucky thus far.
And now to watch Purdue get slaughtered by Ohio State. I love when there are games on during work. It makes things far more entertaining. And who knows, maybe the Boilers have got some trick up their sleeves (or...in their basketball shorts? there are no sleeves on basketball jerseys, of course) and it won't be as disasterous as I'm expecting. (acutally, we'll say it's a trick up Matt Painter's sleeve, perfectly safe).