By which I mean I only seem to poke my head out of… somewhere about once a year.
Robbie Burns Day passed, and I wasn’t even aware of it until Andrew’s Mom mentioned it like a week later. (I blame Sherry, Andrew, and… let’s throw my brother in there, too, since they have Scottish blood and I don’t.)
And now a minute ago some dude came by my desk to apologize for “Pancakegate”. Huh? Turns out the other group left on my floor (The Remnant, as we have become), sent out an email invitation to a pancake lunch today, but they used the wrong distribution list, which didn’t include my team, so no pancakes for us!
Unless they were servin’ ’em up hot and fresh with a) real butter, b) dark, Mennonite-produced maple syrup, and c) possibly a little “bork bork bork“, since that’s just awesome, I wouldn’t have been interested anyway (damned right I’m snobby), however, what bothers me more is that I hadn’t the foggiest it was Shrove Tuesday until he mentioned pancakes.
Granted, I’m not Catholic or anything, but I like to keep myself apprised of these things. (Btw, Lent starts tomorrow for those of you who are into self-denial.) And I do know Easter is early this year (i.e. in March). Of course, if you go by the retail calendar, Easter starts in late January. Fuckers.