We have these little awards, called MUG awards. MUG, of course, stands for something stupid. But that's not the point. I had two of these little awards waiting for me when I got to work-- one was from my manager, and the other from "a secret admirer" who I am pretty sure is shift supervisor Kayla.

Here's what it said. "Monique, I think you deserve this! You are such a hard worker and you make it look so easy. Your professional and positive attitude keeps our customers happy. You are one of the easiest people to work with. YOU ROCK!!" My manager's award to me praised my initiative or something like that. Shucks.

Not ten minutes later, a customer asked me if we had any comment cards. I showed her where they were, and she said that she wanted one because when she was in the store a couple days ago, I was working bar and someone else was working register. Apparently the register partner had a bad attitude or something, but she wanted to commend me for giving such cheerful and prompt service to everyone in line, making their drinks before they could order them and having a great attitude. So she was writing to the company to say what a good job I did, and could I give her my name please?

It's a little embarrassing repeating all this, except not really.

So after that, I became convinced that I was going to do something spectacularly stupid during my shift. Of course, right? But I didn't. I wish I had. It would have made a good story.

One of my customers has a crush on me, I think.

I was working with Kayla one day last week, and we were talking about older guys. Kayla asked if I thought 31 was too old for her (she is 20) to date. I said that in my opinion, Kayla is a very mature 20. In fact, I could hardly believe her age when she told it to me. She's a recovering addict and naturally, people who have been through something like addiction and recovery have a great deal of life experience. If the numerical age was the only thing stopping her from dating this guy, she should go for it.

Then I made some comment about older guys, which I will gloss over in a vague sense at this time. But it was basically along the lines of "older guys are hot."

Of course, one of our customers waiting at the bar was an older guy, who was "intrigued" by our conversation, and hung out at the bar for about ten minutes, talking to me about why women like to date older men, and so on and so forth. As soon as he walked away, Kayla was like, "Dude, he totally wants you."

He came back in today and I recognized him, so I said hello in my usual friendly, hey, I know you sort of way. He said he was doing good, and how was I? I said I was fabulous. He said "for the sake of interaction" he was interested in knowing whether "fabulous" was a step up from "good" or not. We bantered for a while (if there's one skill I do have, it's the skill of bantering with customers) and then he left.

But I thought that whole "for the sake of interaction" comment was kind of strange, and it sort of bolstered my theory that, indeed, he wants me. If he comes in again next week while I'm working, I'll be able to tell for sure.

I have a charming case of PMS at the moment.

I first noticed it when I became vaguely crampy the other day. "Oh, my tummy hurts. Oh, wait, what day is it? It's like, the first of the month, right? Sigh. In that case, hello, ovaries. Welcome. Hello."

Also, I've been very tired and sleeping poorly. I thought it was from my long bike ride, but that was on Friday, and now it's Sunday and I've rested for two days and I'm still tired. I need at least ten hours of sleep right now to feel human.

Also, I've been crabby. I went out drinking with Joey and Laurie last night, and I think I may have been a little bitchy. (I was also talking in a deplorably bad fake British accent and I wouldn't stop-- I am sure my friends just loved the shit out of me.) All night, I just wanted to go home and veg in front of the TV. I kept thinking about Katy's cookies with longing.

And in related news, I've been hungry as hell and craving all sorts of weird things. I've already had plenty of food today, but I feel like I could eat a turkey burger and fries right now. I shouldn't have even typed that, because now I am really craving a turkey burger and fries. And it's one in the morning.

Actually, I've been craving steak. For the first time in like six years or something, I want a steak. I'd eat one, too. I swear to god, I'd eat a steak right now. Tim, where are you? Let's go get some steak. Yeah, it's one in the morning, who cares? Give me some steak. And while you're at it, get in the kitchen and knit me a sweater.

And then there's the bloating...

I'm not sure if all of this is actually caused by PMS, or if the PMS is just a handy excuse. Maybe the desire to sleep all day and eat cookies is just my natural state. (Or alternatively, maybe the changes in appetite and sleep patterns have to do with all my bike riding.)

Well, whatever. I'm going to listen to my body and go to bed. PMS or not, I think I need a nap.

"I think the lint-covered Advil and the semi-nap helped. "