I Can't Believe I'm Admitting This...

   So, as many of you know, I spent about 2.5 years living in a little town in western Minnesota while working as a law clerk for the two coolest judges imaginable.  Being the self-proclaimed city girl that I am, I spent a good chunk of that time irritated and uncomfortable because rural life just doesn't work for me.  I need a Target within a 10 mile radius.  I need there to be more than 2 stop-lights in my town.  I need to go to the grocery store and not run into 3 people that I know.  Driving to Alexandria from Morris just to shop is unacceptable.  I escaped nearly every weekend to the Twin Cities, and I couldn't wait to escape the small-town feel of it all.  Then finally, the day came when I was offered a job back in the metropolitan mecca I'd been lusting after for nearly three years.  I moved back to St. Paul, and thought I'd never look back.  Until today.

   Last night I had a very vivid dream that I moved back to Morris.  To my old apartment.  And I was ECSTATIC about it.  I remember thinking the move was so easy because I knew exactly where to put all my furniture.  I even remember planning out how I was going to surprise my Morris friends with the news that I had returned.  What.  The.  Fork.  This is not me.


   My apartment in Morris was certainly not the newest or most desirable living situation, but I made the place my own, and actually grew to like my surroundings (despite my creepy neighbor...).  It was quiet and it was cute, and I was actually proud of the home I'd made there.  I had some great times in that apartment, and met some of my closest friends there.  Its no wonder that now I dream about it and remember it with happy memories.  So, as evidenced by this blog post, my dream got me to thinking today.  And thinking led to realization.  I realized that I actually *gasp* LIKED living in Morris.  And that I actually *DOUBLE GASP* miss it.  Yeah.  You read that correctly.

   Now I'm not saying that I am going to run out and move back.  I have a great living situation right now with an awesome roommate, and I have a new job that I like, and I am working toward a(nother) graduate degree, so things are going pretty well right now.  But I just can't help but wonder what it would have been like had I stayed...  It was chatting with a good Morris friend this evening that kind-of brought out this nostalgic moment.  To my ladies from Morris, I just want you to know that I love you all, and you made my time living in your town more amazing than I ever could have expected.  I really want to make it a point to come back and visit a bit more often, and partake in the exotic wonders that are rural Minnesota life... freezing cold holiday parades, bar hopping in Lisa's camper, wrangling feral cats, duck farts, kissing random Coborn's cashiers (You know who you are, M), and having sidewalk parties in front of my apartment at 3am. 

   So really, this little epiphany has made me learn something about myself.  I've realized that I tend to yearn for the future, and don't focus on the awesome things I have in front of me right now.  Had I changed this attitude during my time in Morris, I could have saved myself so much frustration.  I had it good there.  I had a good job, amazing friends, and I earned quite a few ridiculous stories along the way.  So here's to focusing on the present, and learning to enjoy what I've got.  And to all you Morris-ites out there, I miss you and we need to plan a Morris-extravaganza soon.

I am not dead yet...

Holy absence, Batman.  Yes, I realize I haven't posted since freaking JANUARY.  But full-time work + crazy idea to go to grad school in my "spare time" kind of monopolizes my attention...   Anywho, I am still alive, and I am going to try (try =/= promise) to do a bit more posting here.  So the topic of today is... drum roll please...customer service.

Tonight, I went to an eating establishment that serves primarily pasta dishes in a fast-food manner (I'll let you come to your own conclusions regarding what that establishment is).  I ordered a lovely pesto dish with grilled chicken on top (to-go).  I was handed my much-anticipated dinner in a brown paper bag, but something -- call it a sixth sense -- told me to double check my bag to ensure that the establishment's fine staff properly fulfilled my order.  Much to my chagrin, as I opened the nice warm bag and peeked inside, my dinner was sadly poultry free.

Not to be foiled by the lack of fowl in my pasta, I marched back up to the counter with the intention of politely pointing out the mistake and asking for my damn chicken.  So there I stood.  And waited.  And waited.  And WAITED.  NO ONE behind that counter was willing to make eye-contact with me.  Even the malnourished 16 year old Bieber-haircut ignored my scathing gaze as he walked right past me.  Not any acknowledgment from anyone of my presence.  Really??  

FINALLY, the girl who took my initial order (not 5 minutes earlier) deigned to look at me and inquire about my prolonged presence.  "This was supposed to have chicken", I said.  And with a completely blank stare she asks, "grilled or crusted?".  YOU TOOK MY ORDER 5 MINUTES AGO.  This isn't rocket science.  Sigh.  I don't expect the fast-food staff to quote Chaucer or vomit out physics equations, but you can't remember my chicken??  Sigh.  I weep for the future.

Perhaps I am being too hard on these employees.  Perhaps I know nothing of the rigors of the restaurant biz.  But what really grinds my gears is the intentional and calculated ignorance of my presence as a customer that requires someone's prompt attention.  People make mistakes.  I get that, but DON'T IGNORE ME.  No one puts Megan in a corner. Or at least standing like an idiot next to the noodle counter.  Next time I'll take the bottles of Siracha and start squirting the employees who ignore me.  This will only burn for a second...