Just finished marrying the last of the coffee from the carafe into my already cold cup. My fourth, all-told, for the day. Naturally, nuking it is a necessity.
…But WHS Pimp just finished zapping his pizza.
…So now I’m drinking pizza-infused bold-roast.
It’s more than a little disgusting.
…You know how your coffee sorta settles a bit, and gets that film, floating on top…?
…And, you know how pizza has a lot of grease and somehow only gets oranger and greasier when nuked…?
The top of my coffee looks like an oil rig spew…slightly rainbow-swirled, and “wrong.”
…Yet, I am drinking it anyway. Never mind that the taste generally lines up to about what it sounds like it would taste like.
…Because: It’s coffee. (Sort of.) I don’t want Idiot Gnome to make another whole pot, cuz I will DRINK the whole other pot. So I need to just sit here, and swill my toxic sludge and shut up about it.
…’Cept to you…who never seem to care when I complain.
In fact, just the other day, someone remarked about how much day-to-day joy is lost from their coffee breaks, cuz work here ain’t the Hell it once used to be (for like two years or so.)
I guess sometimes people miss complaining.
…I knew that was true in the first person case (though in this regards, I certainly don’t miss it), but I’ve rarely heard that about OTHER people’s thoughts on someone ELSE’S horrible shit-fest.
I like to think it is because everyone has BEEN in a shit-fest at SOME point or other, and it is just said person missing the camaraderie. Or maybe making fun of it. Or maybe feeling better about their own life choices.
We may never know.
…But for some reason, Boss is missed by some of you…and some people wish Idiot Gnome had a more developed “Greatest Hits” list.
Truth is, she’s sorta learning a little (in some things) and is cheap (in salary)…she takes the trash out without telling her, and goes to find us eats whenever we want (without grumbling)…so we’ve eased up on her a little.
…Which isn’t to say that we’ve no comments about her desk-personalization choices of Hello Kitty mouse pads and pink rhinestone-bedazzled stapler, tape dispenser and pen set…
…Or that we cease to be amused by her Whoville hair, floating like ever-changing colored feathers any given day to any given day. (She is currently in what one might call a “transition” from fading pink to auburn with blonde under-streaks…achieved by box-brunette on top of blonde, with a light red rinse just before Christmas, which didn’t take well, turning pinkish within a week.) Or the fact that she wears so much pancake foundation that the buttons on her phone cease to have numbers.
…Or her “adorable” habit of declaring how starving she is when we order food, then basically licking the top of the bun free of sesame seeds, declaring she’s “stuffed.”
She’s sort of like a pet at this point…where we keep her in her little front lobby cage, and allow ourselves to be amused by her daily idiosyncrasies, taking bets on her ability to do a project right the first time, rather than get all up in arms about it when she rarely does. Mostly because we totally understand her capabilities at this point, and know what NOT to trust her with…and she can answer a phone without falling all over herself (at last.)
…So we’re sorta good with that.
For now.
…But speaking of “pets”…did you know I’m fostering three for Cecil whilst she is out London way for the quarter?
Two frogs (Ben and Jerry) and a Beta (Barry.)
They live in one combined bowl, ‘tween Daphne and Niles, and seem to be adjusting just fine…though the frogs really freaked me out for the first couple days. Cuz their FROGS.
…Aquatic African Dwarf frogs, actually. But in time I was able to bond with them a bit, just out of curiosity. They’re very social and animated. If anywhere within sight line, you really can’t HELP watching them and their constant life of strife. Poor bastards work out all day long and don’t seem to get anywhere really. I bet they just long for sunshine and a rock. But I’m told not. So I just leave ‘em be.
…In case you are at all interested in getting some as pets, I’d like to recommend them highly. As basically they do all the work, and make you laugh a lot in exchange for daily pellet feeding (I refuse the frozen worm thing), and a once-weekly bath.
…Which, if you wear giant rubber gloves that go up to your elbow, like I do…keeps you totally safe from accidentally touching one…which funny as they are or not…would totally NOT be okay.
I’ve decided that if I ever venture that way (post-fostering), I would name them Esther (Williams) and Fernando (Lamas). Cuz they seem forever to be doing extremely complicated choreographed water ballets, in between what looks to me like a yoga regime, involving a wide-reaching scramble to the top of the bowl, followed by starfishing in a free-float back to the bottom of the bowl, in zen-like stillness, whichever way they happen to fall.
…FOR. HOURS.
…I know. Cuz I’ve watched.
…I REALLY need a new show to focus on, you guys.
~D
