03.11.2004 - 4:17 p.m.
The weather in the Northwest this time of year is a fickle bitch, let me tell you. Monday was pure sunshine and clear skies, so warm and summery-feeling I dashed directly from the office to Old Navy to stock up on sleeveless shirts and shorts. I redid my toenail polish in anticipation of all the sandals I'd clearly be wearing all week long. Then it rained like hell all day Tuesday. I chided myself for being fooled into thinking spring had sprung, and wore a raincoat today. Which, by the way, has turned out to definitely be sandal weather, cloudless and mild.
go back ::: forward
I've learned an annoying fact about my new digs at Workplace. During these recent sunny mid-sixties days, my office slowly heats up to be approximately 4821059583 degrees, despite the pulled blinds. I got a largish oscillating fan, but it's really just moving the warm air around. My office-mate and I are massively uncomfortable sweaty lumps by the end of the day, and it's fucking MARCH. I'm worried that once summer rolls around, we will actually burst into flame on a daily basis.
It's much cooler down in the basement of our building, but that houses 1) the gaming tv, 2) an electric shuffleboard table, 3) two freaky robot cat litter boxes that supposedly clean themselves but currently have wads of odorous catshit clumps sprinkled generously throughout their surfaces, and 4) eighty-four thousand assorted unidentifiable computery hardware odds and ends. I could handle living among 1, 2 and 4, but I draw the line at 3.
Other than the relative discomfort of my office, lately I have been really happy with Workplace. We've gone through some pretty big changes, and I've been oddly proud of how well people are dealing with them. The office vibe is mellow, and that's a good thing.
(Plus, one of my coworkers lent me a whole shitload of comic books. Warren Ellis, Frank Miller, Garth Ennis, Brian Michael Bendis, the list goes on and on. I know it doesn't really have anything to do with my job, but finding a stack of graphic novels 4 feet high on your desk goes a long way to helping you whistle while you work.)
One of my office's nicest perks is the food benefit: we have an onsite chef who prepares lunches and dinners, and stocks up the snack room. It's an awesome service, and helps to offset the way-way-wayyy below industry standard salaries, but if you're trying to lose a couple pounds because you're traveling to a beachy locale on, say, the 26th of March, it's tough to stick with the old Lean Cuisines when spicy peanut chicken is wafting past your nose. Right now, as I type this, the food serving tables are loaded with snacks. One bowl of potato chips, one plate with two large wedges of quality cheese and assorted gourmet crackers, one bowl of cut strawberries, one container of whipped cream, and one bowl of carrot sticks. Not to mention an entire snack room loaded with other food items including ICE CREAM SANDWICHES DAMMIT.
I'm sticking to the carrot sticks, but it's fucking hard, man.
Item 1. I brought Dog to work today
Item 2. I stumbled upon this hilarious website.
Item 3. I played this sound file.
I cannot begin to describe how deeply, profoundly, pants-shittingly funny Dog's reaction was. She cocked her head and stared nervously at my computer. She jumped up on the couch and used her nose to push aside the window blinds to scan the outside of the building. Then she ran around the office with her stuffed armadillo wadded in her mouth, searching for the invisible dogs, careening frantically off my coworkers' legs.
I laughed and laughed until my sides hurt. Then, because I am SO going to hell, I played it again.