(no subject)

While wearing my favourite sweats with UCLA across the ass (no, I didn't go there, I got it at a thrift store), a hoodie that I think is stained with some bleach stains from the last time I decided to go blonde, and the bleary-eyed expression of a however-old-I-am year old who drank waaaay too much last night (Thanks, Gar) and was cuddled out of my own bed by an adorable feral beast of a roommate who kicks -- all this lovely mess of a Rogue .... got called Ma'am today.

And what was I doing?

Buying a MUCH deserved triple venti and when I paid, and I couldn't make my card work, I got 'Ma'am, let me show you' and just... sir. Sir. You were in diapers when I was saving the world. Give me more than 10 seconds to figure out how to work my debit card and remember my pin.

Sigh. I can't wait to get back to Quebec where Madame is just the language, and it doesn't make me feel like I failed plate serving or whatever that etiquette shit is called again. Napkin folding? I dunno, I'm the worst.

Only a few more weeks before I take off. Counting down the days.