office catasrophe

I accidently squirted hand sanitizer directly into my can of diet coke.
crap.
I went to subway for lunch and was pumped because i didn't have to buy chips or a drink. there was both back at the office. I get back to the ofice and there is one glorious bag of chips left. I open up the bag to find five chips. not even five chips and a bunch of crumbs. no, just five solitary chips.
what the heck?
I nearly face plant every time I try to get out of my cubicle due to the sheer mass of cords and wires my feet are always tangled up in. Today, however, it was the worst (or best) trip ever when I was getting up to meet a new vendor that was at my doorway. there's a nice how do ya do.
I had to do a lot of writing and figuring on paper for some assignments. I use only the greatest pens - you know - the extra fine rolling ball percision V5's. (cough and buff nails of shoulder like i'm a really cool expert) so, as you might imagine i now have ink on every single digit and all up the side of my hand. that's where the hand sanitizer in the coke comes in.



all in all, it's been a pretty good day.

it's a slippery slope, my friend

Maybe I have had about ten miniature candy canes today.
'tis the season.
Also there are some lingering christmas decorations up in the ol' cube-space.
'tis the season.

Speaking of cube space... get out of mine, Damion*.
There's a new fly buzzing around this heap. We will call him Damion. First off, he's a returning fly. I don't know the root of his long ansence, but I give it many thanks and beg it's intervention once again. There's no amount of ignoring or sideways glares that will thwart Damion's resiliant persistance.
So I sit quietly in my space, my space with a makeshift door, not soliciting any company or conversation (for the most part). But Damion somehow misreads this stoic silence for an open and standing invitation. He comes by and stops on every trip to say a few words. Usually a snide remark or two about the pictures on my wall, or the christmas lights being out of season or something.
A particular instance almost was too much for even him. He sees a Bible sitting on my desk and says, "What are you trying to save yourself?" I reply, "No, I'm already saved." It maybe wasn't the most eloquent or well thought out retort, but it was what first came to mind. "Well at least one of us is, I'm going straight to Hell. Did you get that email I sent you?"
nice subject change. practically seamless.

The email was a bunch of spreadsheets, but when you open them, he had dropped in flash games like mini-golf and pacman.
I spent a solid 30 minutes playing putt putt yesterday. I'm really good at it. Trust me on this.

Anyways. What I am saying is, Damion is a walking awkward. No fail - he will suck the lfe and smooth-flowing conversation right out of the room... er cube.
He will talk to you for minutes upon minutes upon minutes about things to which you never hinted at having an interest. and 9 times out of 9 the conversation will lead to a dead end path of one party just nodding and saying, "yep" until he finally feels goofy enought to just walk away.

oy vey . there's no escape.



* name changed to protect the guilty

Bye bye Birdie

Dear Bob,

I feel that the time is right to say my last goodbyes. It wasn't until today that I came to grips with the fact that you're gone for good. I will no longer wait with baited breath for your return.

I feel I must explain the delay in my coming to this resolve. To be honest, I'm not even sure from where this resolve hails. You see, all the signs still point to your presence.

What's a girls to think when she sees your Railroad Tycoon II computer games still lying around? And what about that super tiny Tabasco sauce bottle? You're just going to leave it behind like a meaningless trinket?

I think I understand the metaphorical reasoning behind your abandoning the 25 lbs. dumb-bell. Your past was wieghing you down and all, but how will you maitain your studly physique if you don't do curls while waiting for your spreadsheets to load?

Please don't tell me you just won't do your curls. please.

Every time I hear the main door open and close and the squeak of worn out tennis shoes on the tile, I feel a jump in my throat. "It's him!" But alas, it is nearly always the UPS man. Bob, will you ever come back?

I hope that you enjoy your new life. I hope that your new cube neighbor knows the treasure trove they have in you. I hope that you can have as wide spread effect there as you have had here.

My friends, my family, they all still ask after you. What am I to tell them? That it's over? That you've left me forever. That no more will I have daily tributes and stories to tell?

"What news of Bob these days?" they ask. "Bob and I have been separated for over a month now. I didn't have the heart to tell you sooner. In fact I only recently came to believe it myself. It was just so sudden."

One day you were here and all was normal. Your helocpter hovered around the office while you wore the control securely around your neck. It seems like only yesterday your boat was parked just outside. And then, just like that, you're gone. No note, no farewell luncheon... just.... gone.

You are missed. And if ever you decide to visit, know there's always a spot for you. Not, your old spot, though, I heard someone talking about moving in the other day. But I'm sure there will be an empty cubicle around here somewhere.

Here's to fate, and the off chance our paths may one day cross again...

Cheers.

simply delightful

.being asked to dance
.watching someone who is totally absorbed in what they're doing
.seeing something be done the very best it could have possibly been done
.christmas lights anytime
.earings that make jingly noises when you turn your head
.super soft sheets
.finding photos you forgot about
.someone recognizing that you did something well
.pretty handwriting
.crunchy leaves to walk on and kick around
.rain when it's warm and sunny
.the smell of fresh paint
.your neck and jaw hurting from laughing
.grafitti on rail cars
.bridges
.music that makes you move
.not being able to hide a smile
.understanding
.not having to talk and it being perfectly fine
.knowing something is being prepared for you, but you don't know what - so you look for it in everything
.finding the perfect gift for someone
.ice cream
.knowing exactly what you are hungry for, then being able to have it, then it be satisfying
.the little jumps and black dots on the movie screene at the theater
. wind blowing your hair straight up
.photography
.a story that can be told a million times and never get old
.having a plan that woks out just like you'd hoped
.feeling surprised by someone you were all wrong about
.forgiveness
.candy canes
.kolaches from Lone Star Kolaches
.sweet tea with a lime
.flying on airplanes
.knowing someone is looking at you waiting for you to look back
.good hair days
.clear skin
.men in suits
.a chair feeling like it was made for you
.driving around to look at houses
.someone saving a seat for you
.clothes that fit perfectly
.shoes
.hearing a song you've heard a million times, but this time it's on good headphones and you realize there's background noise and little mixing details you never knew were there. (Anthony by Nickle Creek)
.looking back and seeing that a lot has happened
.sunglasses
.shoes
.listening to laughter
.chocolate covered things. anything
.sunsets
.age groups intermingling with mutual love and adoration
.not having to have the last word
.stairs
.socks filled with warm rice
.waking up in the same position you went to sleep in
.stringed instruments
.the word floutist
.a naturally occuring nickname that sticks
.praying
.cross-genre duets
.lists
.family
.mexican wrestling posters
.your favorite pen never running out of ink
.the office
.jim on the office
.half smiles
.blank notecards
.good hold music on the phone
.really nice paper
.being able to put exactly what'sin your head on paper (or canvas)
.books
.life

Garfield the cat once said, "if people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters."
And I stand by that.

even though he said "we" and he is clearly not a person.

I stand by that.

well it's official.
craigslist is one of the greatest things to grace the world wide web.
i have been wanting to get rid of my couch for a while. I put up a few flyers at my apartment's communtiy ad boards. then yesterday I put it on craigslist and BAM! today it's sold. Friday it will be gone.
Now I need to get a new couch. I am excited. I want something awesome and rediculously comfortable. I can't wait to spend a whole saturday couch shopping.
yes yes yes.
I also, in the time i've been looking online at couches, have come to realize there's a lot of stuff I want.
New sheets, a rug, curtains?, wacky lamps, coffee table...... then when you look at anthropologie for furnishings you're bound to get side tracked onto the apparel section... so there's a whole new set of wants...
why do i always want something more or different than what I have?
do you think it could be related to the fact that I am a new creation that has been awakened to the idea that there is so much more that I am a part of, beyond this life? that maybe my always wanting something is like a spiritual parallel to my soul yearning for heaven.
i think this is a valid analysis. however, the flaw comes in that where my soul is eternal and never will run dry, my checking acount is very finite and will run dryer faster than i can say "oo oo gimme that!"

Also, the things that my soul longs towards are much deeper and more satisfying than a new throw pillow.
but you get the idea.

there's a want on the surface that is a superficial tale of the deep and real want that lies below.

Heaven

Can't wait

It's gonna be great.