You are MAYBE a dick

I have a pet peeve.

If you've ever RSVPed to anything I've ever done, you probably know what this is...

Maybe.

We live in a culture of MAYBE. I blame Facebook. It wasn't until FB decided that "Maybe" was an acceptable RSVP that people started using it like gasoline.

Holy fuckballs.

Slow down, people! We are not in a race to use up all the fucking "maybes"!

Do you know what happens when you say "maybe" to an event? You look like a prick.

"Hey best friend since we met on the playground in third grade! I'm getting married three months and four days from now at 7pm! I want you to be my Maid of Honor!"

"Oh. Um. Maybe."

What? Really? What the fuck, lady?

Why "maybe" makes you look like an asshole:
1) This is what you say when you know for sure you aren't going to attend an event, but you don't want to look like a douche. Invariably, you end up looking like a bigger douche because you are not only giving a false sense of "yes", but you're also blatantly lying. "My kitten's funeral is tomorrow, can you come?" "Oh, er, maybe..." And you think you can just avoid the dead kitten's mother until after the funeral when you can make some sorry excuse like your OWN kitten died!
2) You're essentially saying "I'll be there, UNLESS something better comes along." Wow. I feel important to you. Unless, say, your girlfriend decides it's a good night for anal sex, you're going to come to my birthday party. Awesome.
3) You're really saying "my time is WAY more important than your time." Why? Well, when I'm planning an event, there are a lot of factors. Maybe food. Maybe parking. Alcohol, of course. Fire safety. All of these things need to be considered. When you say "maybe" as a place holder, you want me to count you - I am getting your share of food, booze, and fire code. But you might not show up. What do I do, then? Find someone else?

You know what? If I invite you to an event of mine, don't say "maybe" unless you mean it. Unless you have something tentative planned. Maybe your mom is having a family reunion that week, but she hasn't decided the day yet. She has priority because she was FIRST!

Really, just say no. Straight up. Frankly, if you ever say "maybe" to me, I count you as a "no" anyway.

How Earwigs affect Sarah

I had a job interview today. (Yay!) So I am no longer unemployed. Not that I'm *really* employed, but I'm at least more employed than I was previously. This is cause for celebration. Furthermore, the fact that the job interview was approximately 10 minutes long and 110% positive is great.

If you've ever had an awkward job interview, you know how, well, awkward it can be. I've never had a bad interview, but I've definitely had awkward ones. This was certainly not one of them. Well, until the earwig happened.

Everything was great. I had a nice, solid hand shake. I smiled. I was bubbly. I explained how awesome I am, and also how overqualified I was for the position at hand. Yes, everything was perfect.

But then when I pulled out my day planner to check which day I could start...

There was an earwig on it.

I. Flipped. A. Shit.

Me: Oh my GOD!
Manager: What happened?
Me: Ahhhh!!!!!
Manager: *puzzled look*
Me: WHAT DO I DO????
Manager: What is it???
Me: A BUG! AN EARWIG! GROOOOOSSS!!!!!

Fortunately, my (new) manager was chivalrous to slay the beast before it had time to inflict further damage upon my mental health, physical well-being, and image.

Those bugs are fucking disgusting.