As an INFJ, I spend a lot of time gathering information and intel (consciously and sub so), and also analyzing/questioning/pondering, etc. I do a lot of this silently so most people wouldn’t notice my brain is constantly playing 20 questions / 1,000,000 answers. Sometimes, though, my brain gives me a break and I only think, like, half as much as usual and contemplate silly things that make me laugh. Lucky you, today is that day.
I wandered near the bathroom at work, a teeny half bath that I don’t like to use because there’s a man who uses it (enough said). It caught my eye today, though, because I could see through the mostly open door that the toilet paper fairy arrived and apparently went berserk. There’s a new roll on the spinny holder thingy with a bit dangling downward, what’s left of the old roll propped on top of that against the wall, a new roll sitting on the toilet tank, and two rolls on the shelf above the toilet. You’re asking now, too: what’s with all the TP?
- Someone had Mexican and is expecting to spend a LOT of time in there.
- We have a cat I don’t know about here. Entertainment!
- The man wants the bathroom to have that lived in look he perhaps has at home?
Then I realized — I put the two rolls on the shelf above the toilet (along with a roll of paper towels). But what if only Tall Tara and Also Tall Sara are the only ones who can reach that shelf?
For all the contemplating I do, I hadn’t contemplated that people shorter than we might not be able to reach that shelf (I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear).
And yes, my one coworker’s name is mine except for the first letter and dontcha know that causes all kinds of confusion with staff and clients alike. Sometimes, she’s called Tara and I’m called Sara. We decided to fuse our names. She likes STara, but I prefer TSara, pronounced Sara — the T is silent.
After contemplating that for a time, my mind flitted to my French studies. Duo at Duolingo and I spend a lot of time together. I’m doing well, but I’m curious about the French conversations I’ve heard in the past as Duo has me spending an inordinate amount of time on the following phrases:
- Je suis un garçon (or Je suis une fille).
- Je suis une femme (or Je suis un homme).
- Tu es un garçon (or Tu es une fille).
Just how much time do French-speaking people spend walking around saying I am a boy/girl, I am a woman/man, You are a boy/girl? When can I discuss my deep feelings for fromage and croissant? Curieuse.
You may be contemplating the following and will be interested to know that indeed I had to look up how to spell berserk but did not have to look up inordinate.
I could spend an inordinate amount of time trying to come up with a super clever ending for this post, but alas, I haven’t had lunch yet so all cylinders are NOT firing. I’ll just end this here then and bid you adieu. This is TSara, une femme, signing off.