Add to that my penchant for bodices, Ren Faires, pyrates, and all Things Scottish (and All Things had Better be In A Kilt!)...and - voila! - I do not fit in.
Oh, and the little matter that I am widowed with 2 young children - the folks out here have no clue how to deal with me. I'm tired of beating my head against the wall, but I refuse to change just to fit in. BTDT, and I was miserable. I'd rather just be me - the world can go hang.
Why the morose thoughts? We're on Deathwatch, and you start thinking about anything and everything to keep distracted. *shrug*
Oh, I must share a funny - the boss's wife told us that Saturday, the doctors ordered some test...they go in thru the nose, up almost to the brain, then back down to wherever. Long, gruesome test - she didn't know what it was for, and had to leave in the middle of it.
Anyway, I work for an independent Oil and Gas Company. *g* After the test, Mrs. Boss went back into the room to soothe Mr. Boss. He said, in a very loud and quarrellsome voice (and this was corraborated by the nurses) "It was a Dry Hole. I could have told them that! I'm the expert here - I knew they would come up dry!"
Guess you had to be there.....*g*