Home and back again

I've been putting off writing a blog because I feel I'm expected to write of the awesomeness of my adventures in Costa Rica. And yes, the adventures WERE awesome! I climbed up volcanoes, I zip-lined through rain forest, I sunburned epically at the beach, I got bit by mosquitoes that possibly carried a variety of new-to-me diseases, I saw monkeys and toucans and lizards, and I drank coffee in a blissful manner. This was all awesome and I had very few episodes of laughing at my fellow humans...and therefore not too many stories to share, especially since I took a boat-load of pictures and wrote somewhat descriptive captions for them.

All I know is that I'm a woman on the move and have a few short days left until my next out-of-state travelling adventure. 2011 is the year of travel, it seems. I was thinking of my year of travel and my lack of blog today at the day job. It's the time of year where I work many, many hours and come home to work on the projects that somehow migrated to my place. Right. I was thinking of things and stuff when a return student popped into my office because they needed a new i.d. card.

This is normal, since I'm the keeper of the picture-taking-camera. But. As I reached for the i.d. card log, I saw the student yoink something off my shelf and stick it in their pocket without missing a conversational beat. Since it was one of our promotional lip balms (which I hand out all the time to everyone, anyway) it wasn't really a big deal. Except my first thought was "Very experienced shoplifter."

I've worked retail for 18 years and some habits don't go away. Like the ability to spot sketchy behaviour. Or the ability to see someone yoink something off your shelf from the corner of your eye. So. Student got themselves a lip balm, a label as a thief, and a mental note to never invite them over for dinner. I like my forks too much to have them yoinked.

Moral of today's story: yoink is my favorite verb currently.

An Erinku (like lemonade with a twist):
It seems
I can't count to 16.
I reach 8 and think
"that's enough." Bah!