Boring

   Have any of you ever had to answer a question/assignment somewhat along the lines of  "Name something interesting about yourself" In college, it typically comes up at the start of every class. Except a blissful few, in which the instructor does not care, nor do they want to pretend to care. Or maybe they can't think of anything interesting about theirself either. Regardless, that question, above all other questions, truly makes me feel like an incredibly dull and boring individual. Usually, I start out somewhat like this: 

"I am Emily Swisher. I work full-time as a paramedic in a rural area. I enjoy embroidery, cross stitch, playing the guitar, reading, and writing my blog."

  Potential is there, but overall, it feels kinda "meh." I usually use the instructor's example post as a guide of how funny or serious I should be. This one is pretty serious. Which leaves me out of ideas to add some pizzazz to my earlier statement. Well, that and the fact that I am pretty boring. Although, I may not be as boring as I think. You see, the assignment above did not prompt this blog post. It started with my supervisor knocking on my door. He knocked and I quickly shoved the mystery bus toy from my Scooby Snacks surprise box that I was putting stickers on into my backpack. When I opened the door, he  told me that the Office Manager needed to speak with me. Going up front to get a paper from her sparked my asking for a form to fill out for a day off, since we are out of them, and I would like to get paid for this day off (PTO to the rescue!). We-ll, the form was found quickly, but copies needed to be made. I am (usually) great with my baby, simple, user-friendly (read almost idiot-proof) printer for the non-tech-savy individual. But a fancy-smancy office printer that is almost as tall as I am and has more buttons than a slew of preschoolers would be able to push? Not so much. So, after being rescued by the billing specialist, BoyMom (she has 3 boys and uses the phrase a lot), I had my little paper to get paid for picking my cat up from the vet (Ladybug does not wish to be a mother.)* and babysitting attending Her Majesty's needs and requests, I, quite relieved, left the scene of the printer-being-smarter-than-I-am incident. And promptly made a large racket when I accidentally brushed against empty Culligan bottles precariously stacked upon each other. Let me tell ya, those things can flat out bounce! Which made me think, "Hmmm, I should write about this to my smarter-than-a-printer blog friends, and see if they know how to write this as a scholarly essay in such a manner that it sounds like my ineptitude and general clumsiness qualifies as actually being quite interesting?" So, my smarter-than-a-printer-copier-thingie buddies, do you have any ideas? While you think, I shall return to putting stickers back on my toy, thank you very much.

  Thanks,

 Not-Smarter-Than-A-Printer-Copier-Alien-Thingie

*Running a country [or in this case, household] as Queen takes up entirely too much time  for a half-grown cat, let alone adding the responsibility of offspring to the roster. Little ones would ruin her figure and cause her to neglect her royal duties while detracting from attention paid to her. And she has far too much on her plate to properly raise them and be there for them emotionally. And less than 4  weeks with one's own mother is hardly enough time to properly learn to care for mini fluff balls in a manner that would be consistent with Her Majesty's high expectations personality.