I've often heard it said that it's healthy to laugh at yourself. Makes you take yourself not so seriously.
Well, I had good reason to laugh at myself yesterday morning, and I'm wondering if it had anything to do with the fact I'd had just one cup of coffee before diving into work. I dutifully filled out some forms to pay a couple of freelancers, stuffed them in an interoffice mail envelope, and addressed it to ... George Rede.
D'oh!
Fortunately, I caught my mistake before putting the envelope in an "out" basket. Still, a co-worker and I wondered how long it would have taken for me to receive my own mail. Two days, tops, he said with a smile.
The day before, at the garden party I wrote about yesterday, I was making idle conversation with a couple of women while Lori was inside baking something for the party.
"So," I said casually to the 40-ish woman with tattoos on both arms and calves, "was it pure coincidence you both wound up living in McMinnville?"
"Well," the older woman said, raising an eyebrow, "she is my daughter."
D'oh!
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