Backup Napkin

I bring my lunch to work.

If I stopped here, this post would signify one of my life's crowning achievements; namely, that I actually went out and bought a pack of those paper brown lunch sacks and make my lunch nightly. I'm not here to gloat, however.

Actually I am. I'm really too pleased with myself and shouldn't write about this but humor me. SO ANYWAY. Within this sack-lunch I usually pack a non-processed fruit item (ie, banana), one sandwich, a yogurt/applesauce, and a drink. Moreover, I supply myself with not one but two napkins.

One napkin is chosen at random as I commence with lunch while the other is kept close at hand. The primary napkin, or "Napkin Alpha" as I say aloud with arms raised, is used for most napkin-necessary situations; finger drying, cheek wiping, littering etc. Rarely is the auxiliary napkin called up from AAA; however, on occasion an emergency spill or miscue in bringing the sandwich to my mouth will unfortunately occur. And rather than using Napkin Alpha, which is by now a wadded up mess, I quickly reach for Old Reliable -- my backup napkin -- and a messy cheek is averted.

Drunk with self-congratulatory bliss, disconnected from the world around me, I lean back, smile broadly, breathe in and then open my eyes. I raise my arms again.

And lunch hath been served.

Office Life

Since I'm working in a true office environment now, I'm increasingly understanding all the office humor that went over my head in the mid-nineties (see: News Radio). There are definitely career-shifting perks to working in the office such as receiving a new key or getting a Slurpee whenever I please, but I have to say that sometimes its not all its cracked up to be.

For instance, how comfortable is your chair? Does it teter-totter with the shift of a mere proton on the sitter's body? You see, at my workplace there are 4 gradations of chair: 1) things that deserve to be shot well into space (gives you scoliosis by noon), my chair (ok I'll give them this: it has wheels), 3) other boss's chairs (the kind that help you live longer or something), and 4) the $600 throne (it makes you live longer AND sucks yo dick).

How far away from the stairwell is your office? Can you practice your 40-yard dash times on the way to your scoliosis chamber? Well I can, and not only can I do this, but the men's restroom is closest to my office as well. Some may call this a plus. I don't. If some random office dude from the other wing is pooping loudly in there and one exits the restroom, the sound reverberates and, thankfully, finds its way into my ears. And frankly if I'm in there with one of my bosses, say goodbye to the thought of ever #2'ing -- I just can't do it under such circumstances, such stress!

Don't mock me -- you know what I mean. Anyway, I'll have more on my restroom ambivalence later.

How many other Outlook calendars can you view? This is truly one of the premiere status symbols around the office. Yesterday I was firing off permissions left and right for 15 people to view my calendar, however bare it is, and I received only 1 reciprocal add!!1 Please, Your Excellencies, let me see your calendars. Let me LIIIIVE.

These are only a few of the things I get to think about all day long while I'm not at the Vid leveling up or something. Fear not, faceless blog browser, there will be more reflections soon.

Deep Thoughts

I was doing some thinking at work tonight and realized *POW* that there's always a retarded kid in your class named Jimmy.

boredom

i've been meaning to write a new post for a while... i know i always say that but i mean it this time*. i tell you what the dilly is:

so i'm here at my new job. same place in eigenmann, but i'm a "research assistant" now, bitches. see, i like it and it gives me job security for a while as well as the phat title, but A) i don't know how long i can stand doing this and B) i don't even have a namecard or goofy t-shirt that has "STAFF" printed on the back. of course, nobody around here has these things BUT THAT'S JUST HOW I DO.

word is bond.

no, surriusly, i like it for now. i have to make a few more critical life decisions here in the next 3 months, namely, do i really want to pursue a japan oriented career (ie, JET, which would mean i leave the country next july)? meh, i dunno. doing that would be fun, but it could seriously interrupt the progress i've finally started to make in the "real world" -- and by that, again i refer to my phat title, biooooootch. what does a man do? make that decision.

i now live by myself for the first time ever. is this really true? yes. while this arrangement is 4 years overdue, i'm also happy with what i finally have, and that is indeed my own apartment. its on the southside away from the teeming human river of STD and other disease i call campus. i have this 3-tiered stand -- and i've been telling everyone this so bear with me -- that i used to house all three of my video game systems, all wired at the same time. say it with me: i just creamed my pants.

the thing with the apartment is that i live in a sort of ghetto. my neighbor is an impoverished grandma of 5 years and has made multiple not-so-subtle statements suggesting she needs financial help and that i seem fit to give it to her. she also calls me "scott" but i've decided not to correct her. anyway.

uh-oh. i just got a meeting reminder in 15 minutes...i forgot to prepare for this. yeah i'm gonna go now.
___________
*i prolly dont mean it