I hate olives.
I'm generally not a picky eater, but if you order a pizza to share with me, and it contains olives, I will be upset. "Jenna, you could just pick off the olives." I do that. And it then tastes delightful. The fact that they were there at all still upsets me though. Why?
Great question. If I had an answer, this blog would probably be called Rational Ranting.
It's not.
So today when I was working at Aldy, we were having a party. Let me tell you, there ain't no party like an ILL party. (ILL meaning InterLibrary Loan. Not ill as in sick.) Most of the people in my office love cooking/baking, so any excuse to bring things in is acceptable. Today we were celebrating three of the student workers' birthdays that have happened over the past week and a half, so there was a TON of food.
Among this food were a couple of olive related products.
I was fine. I could handle it.
Then the container of dip was opened.
The container of olive dip.
I won't lie. I tried it. Because I didn't know it was composed of olives.
Needless to say, I didn't enjoy it. But I didn't make a big deal about it.
Then I noticed something else.
The smell.
Have you ever smelled an olive? Or olive based dip? It stays with you. It didn't matter that I shut the container of dip. It didn't matter that I moved it a little further from my work station. I could still smell it. And I'm not going to lie, I'm a little bit paranoid that I now smell like olives but just can't tell.
Natasha says I don't.
But still.
Add some sass to your (let's keep this an olive free zone of) class,
Jenna
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