Just call me Gullible

Last year, some co-workers invited me on a trip to Cedar City for the Shakespearean Festival. I was being nice. I said it sounded fun and I would like to go. Like, being the operative word here. Like, as in not a need, but a wish, a dream, not a reality.

Next thing I knew, she had bought the tickets and told me I could pay her back with my next paycheck. I was really shocked, mostly because I didn't really think I would go, and I definately didn't think someone would just buy the tickets and expect reimbursement.

However, I was in a funny position because the person was my supervisor, so I handed over my money. I think this is how I ended up bringing the turkey for our Thanksgiving potluck last year too. And the hotdogs for the summer BBQ.

Anyway, I leave on the trip tomorrow. My friend at work was supposed to go with us but backed out at the last minute, leaving me with my supervisor and her friend. They are dressing up. Like Shakespearean people. And walking around like that. Where people can see them. I'm a little unnerved by the idea. I don't draw attention to myself on purpose.

So I'm packed and ready to go on a trip I didn't want to take. It should be fun. Well, maybe not. At least I'll have something to write home about.