Put A Fork In Me, I’m Done

Two of my coworkers will occasionally invite me out to lunch, but only when they’re going somewhere weird and they know I’ll say no, like to a Vietnamese place or a restaurant whose specialty is lamb kabobs…so I almost always decline.

Today they asked me if I wanted to go to Firehouse Subs.  I said sure.  They immediately backtracked, saying, “you really don’t have to” and “no pressure, really, it’s cool”.

AND THEN THEY LEFT WITHOUT ME.

WTF.  I said yes.

Instead I went to Panera by myself and got some broccoli cheddar soup and a tuna salad sandwich, which are pretty much my Depressed Lunch, so if you ever see me eating it, you might want to ask me how my day is going.  Because it’s probably in the shitter.

AND THEN.  Just now, someone told me that our team’s happy hour tonight is cancelled.  Which is totally fine and doesn’t impact my Friday night plans at all, since they never invited me in the first place.

I give up.

San Francisco Or Bust…I Choose Bust

Hubs and I visited San Francisco for our first wedding anniversary this past July, and ever since then, he’s been daydreaming (to himself and out loud to me) about relocating out west.  He really, really loved San Fran…and I wish I could agree.  Here are my generalized thoughts on the city.  If you’re offended by any of these, sorry in advance.

1. The Weather

Every. Single. Person. that we told about our plans to go to San Francisco repeated the famous Mark Twain quote, “The coldest winter I ever saw was the summer I spent in San Francisco.”  After the twelfth time, we were like, we knowwwww, San Francisco is cold in the summer.  WE GET IT!  But the truth is, it really is chilly.  Our first night there, the fog hung so low that you could taste it, and I had to wear closed-toe shoes, a jacket, and a scarf.  Keep in mind, we had traveled from Atlanta, where it was approximately 1,000 degrees with 1000% humidity.  So while the cool weather was a nice break, it also felt really, really wrong.  We got a better view of the grim reaper fog when we were driving back into the city via Oakland a few days later, and it looked like the apocalypse, people!  I did not get warm fuzzies from the “charming” San Francisco weather.  Not at all.

2. Mmmmm Food

My favorite food that we got to try in SF was a sourdough bread bowl with some sort of tomato bisque.  It warmed the cockles of my heart, it was so good.  But if I were faced with the dilemma of what to eat every day in San Francisco, and I had sourdough breadbowls as a readily available option, I would weigh 800 lbs.  Additionally, when the weather is depressing, I tend to eat my feelings (see item #1).  Foggy weather + sourdough mecca = popping the top button on my jeans, forever.

Sidenote: the shrimp in San Fran are effing creepy.  If you are from the east coast and shrimp are important to you, then DO NOT order shrimp in San Fran.  They are small, bumpy, and creep me the F out.

3. The MotherClucking Hills

Never have my calves hated me so much that after a day of walking around San Francisco.  There is a reason why everyone who lives there has such toned legs; also a reason why they take the trolley an extra block and walk DOWN to wherever they are going.  People who know better avoid walking uphill at all costs in this city.  Tourists like us will probably never learn.  I enjoy a leisurely stroll in a new city when I’m traveling, but there is nothing leisurely about strolling through San Francisco.

4. MoneyMoneyMoneyMoney

San Francisco is mucho expensivo!  Everything from housing to food to entertainment is expensive in this city.  Probably not as bad as New York…probably.  I decided on a whim to look at what kind of condo we could get in the city for the same price that we spent on our house in Atlanta, and if the thought of trading in a 4 bedroom house for a studio was appealing to me, I’d be packing my bag right now (see what I did there?  BAG.  No use in bringing clothes that won’t fit in the door of your 10X15 shoebox of an apartment).

5. Distance

San Francisco is approximately 2,500 miles from my family here in Georgia.  It’s even further from hubs’ parents in Savannah.  While I would like to consider myself an independent woman who has no qualms about moving across the country or even the world in order to experience a new adventure, I would miss my mom too much.

In short, I am a chicken who is afraid of change, weird shrimp, and seasonal depression.  The End.