Saturday, May 20, 2006
In Which I am a Helper
Yesterday I volunteered at a secondhand store run by a women's shelter. I decided to do this for several reasons. First of all, I think hitting women is totally not cool, with the possible exceptions of Ann Coulter and maybe Sharon Stone. Secondly, I enjoy skipping out of my actual job, because although I pay someone to dust and vacuum my own home, I still enjoy those tasks more than document review and conference calls. And finally, it kind of seemed like all the cool kids were doing it, which, as we all know, is the best reason to do anything from pounding shots of Jager to spreading the rumor that Staci Palmer is doing it with Dr. Jackson, your disabled physics instructor. So anyway, I drove to the suburbs and helped stock gently used household items for an afternoon.
I have to say, it is amazing to me some of the things that people see fit to donate to goodwill. Apparently, some people think that broken salad shooters and tupperware containers with hardened macaroni and cheese stuck in them are prizes beyond compare. Then there's the swimwear and underwear -- I guess that's one way to really become intimate with those less fortunate then you. Since I personally give my old clothes to a couple that hangs out by my dumpster, however, I guess I really shouldn't judge. They've turned up their noses at my cast off Old Navy on more than one occasion.
So anyway, I helped people, and I'm pretty awesome for doing it. Now I don't feel at all bad about sleeping on a huge pile of money each night and bathing in only the finest champagne.
Yesterday I volunteered at a secondhand store run by a women's shelter. I decided to do this for several reasons. First of all, I think hitting women is totally not cool, with the possible exceptions of Ann Coulter and maybe Sharon Stone. Secondly, I enjoy skipping out of my actual job, because although I pay someone to dust and vacuum my own home, I still enjoy those tasks more than document review and conference calls. And finally, it kind of seemed like all the cool kids were doing it, which, as we all know, is the best reason to do anything from pounding shots of Jager to spreading the rumor that Staci Palmer is doing it with Dr. Jackson, your disabled physics instructor. So anyway, I drove to the suburbs and helped stock gently used household items for an afternoon.
I have to say, it is amazing to me some of the things that people see fit to donate to goodwill. Apparently, some people think that broken salad shooters and tupperware containers with hardened macaroni and cheese stuck in them are prizes beyond compare. Then there's the swimwear and underwear -- I guess that's one way to really become intimate with those less fortunate then you. Since I personally give my old clothes to a couple that hangs out by my dumpster, however, I guess I really shouldn't judge. They've turned up their noses at my cast off Old Navy on more than one occasion.
So anyway, I helped people, and I'm pretty awesome for doing it. Now I don't feel at all bad about sleeping on a huge pile of money each night and bathing in only the finest champagne.
