It’s National Fluffernutter Day

When you work for The State, you get an astonishing number of holidays off – Presidents Day, Election Day, Groundhog Day – it’s bananas! And I loved every bit of it during my two year tenure. Even though I know I don’t get Columbus Day off anymore, in the shower this morning I formulated a plot about how I really DID have the day off but didn’t know it because I’d mis-marked my calendar. And when I got to work I’d find an empty parking lot, tumbleweeds and all, after which I would rejoice and maybe quote a bible verse, just to give proper ups to You-Know-Who. But it was not meant to be, for by the time I got to work the parking lot was already teeming with old heaps, metaphorically burdened with upside-down loans due to the meek severance we employees receive.

Did you know that it’s National Fluffernutter Day? I never knew what a Fluffernutter was until I went to college and met Linnea. She was originally from New England (where I believe they’re more common?) and had munched on ‘nutters throughout her childhood. (Dirty.) When she told me about these wacky sammies, I never really got past the silly name and in my typical savant fashion, repeated the word over and over and thought of it obsessively until it became a regular in my vernacular. In fact, ever since Abbs was a tiny ball of puppy fluff, I’ve called her Fluffernutter, or variations thereof, but that’s where it ends for me. Although I love peanut butter enough to knock down my grandmother for a teaspoon of it, I’m not a fan of marshmallows and so I don’t think I’d enjoy Fluffernutters. Ultimately that’s a good thing because I certainly don’t need another food obsession to conquer, not at least until The Battle of the Butter Cream is won in my favor.

In other news, I think I’ve succeeded in convincing my part-time gig supervisors that I have some sort of memory disorder and am simply constitutionally incapable of adhering to new employee policies. It’s just that I’ve been teaching for a long time now and for all these years, I’ve never had to clock in. All I had to do was mark my hours on a timesheet and submit  it bi-weekly. But starting last semester, all instructors have to clock in and out using this online timekeeping system. Since then almost every time period I’ve either:

  1. Forgotten to clock in entirely, or
  2. Clocked in but forgotten to clock out, resulting in 250-hour pay periods.

Oops! The best part is having to continually humble myself and beg for my supervisors to once again forgive my error, correct the problem, and not relegate me to only teaching workshops like How To Burn Toast: The Basics.

I had a really terrible dream last night and woke up screaming. It was pretty loud because I could hear my upstairs neighbors stirring after I woke myself up. I dreamt that I was living with Lean and I invited one of my ex’s over even though I didn’t want to see him. When he arrived he was un-balanced and scary and tried to kill me. It was awful. What does that mean? Probably that Lean should have to clean my apartment, wash and wax The Goose, and organize my CDs for not averting my rendezvous with the ex in DreamLand. I can’t believe what a bitch she is.


5 Responses to “It’s National Fluffernutter Day”

  1. Kriss Says:

    I’ve never met a Fluffernutter. I dunno. Something about marshmallow guts in a jar just doesn’t do it for me.

    LMAO @ Lean cleaning your apartment & such. Wouldn’t that be nice? Sigh.

    Did you eat something weird or spicy before you went to bed last night? Chili always gives me horrendous scary dreams.

  2. KNH Says:

    I fixed the email problem (sorry). 🙂

    What kind of horrible friend doesn’t defend your honor in dreams? Hmfph.

  3. SweetBasta Says:

    Abby is laughing at you. She is seeing you get the teach and old dog(not that you are an old dog) new tricks treatment. Your supervisors should rub your nose on the time entry screen and whack you with a rolled up paper. That would train you up good!

  4. Amy Says:

    I don’t recall hearing of Fluffernutter when I went to school in Mass., but I guess I must have heard it somewhere since I know what it is. I do know there was never marshmallow creme anywhere in my life (I still haven’t tried it) and I don’t think I am sad about it. Sounds like Peeps-in-a-food-processor and way too sweet.

    I did learn about tag sales out east, though!

    Speaking of Columbus Day, I was all excited to be able to speed through school zones on the way to work, only to slam on the brakes as I saw a parking lot full of cars at the IPS schools. Don’t kids get that one off anymore?

  5. Amy Says:

    For some reason I was looking at this post again, and I must correct myself for the horrible redundancy of “IPS schools.” At least I chastised myself before KNH could.

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