This place I work at 03
So, I walked back into work again this morning. Nothing had changed, really. The Christmas decorations were still up - and I bet they will continue to be until closer to Valentine's Day - and everything was covered with a very thin layer of debris fallout dust.
Needless to say, the first thing we all did was clean up the place a bit. This involved sweeping, dusting, and shoveling the area. Didn't take too long, and I managed to actually convince most of the foam-chicks to wear dust masks while doing so. Ahh, one small victory...
While all this activity was going on, the ladies in other sections of the building were lamenting the state of their poinsettia plants. After receiving no light, heat, or water for 11 days, they were in pretty sad shape (the plants, people, not the co-workers).
Except for one, single, plant. It was happy, healthy, and growing. Now, this particular plant had a fair bit of body-temperature mud splashed on it three weeks ago (um, yeah, TheCrag has learned that he actually *does* need a second pair of hands to fill the dip tanks). I spent a good 10 minutes gently peeling off the dry mud from the leaves, and removing the few leaves that were not going to survive. Otherwise, it was treated no differently from any of the other plants.
Yup, the rumour mill was cranking things out at full tilt all day. "She's a plant whisperer," was one of the most annoying obviously predictable common things I heard. MrQ asked me if I talk to the foam, since my parts tend to have a less than 2% rejection rate (as opposed to the overall average of 12%). Well, that's nice to know, but no, I don't talk to foam. Threaten it, yes. Talk, no.
The funniest thing was that, when I went into the lunchroom at noon, there were four poinsettia plants camped out around the place I usually sit. What could I do? I watered them and dusted the leaves and bracts off. Que cera cera, eh?
So, yeah, they think I'm a bit strange... got them fooled but good!!
Needless to say, the first thing we all did was clean up the place a bit. This involved sweeping, dusting, and shoveling the area. Didn't take too long, and I managed to actually convince most of the foam-chicks to wear dust masks while doing so. Ahh, one small victory...
While all this activity was going on, the ladies in other sections of the building were lamenting the state of their poinsettia plants. After receiving no light, heat, or water for 11 days, they were in pretty sad shape (the plants, people, not the co-workers).
Except for one, single, plant. It was happy, healthy, and growing. Now, this particular plant had a fair bit of body-temperature mud splashed on it three weeks ago (um, yeah, TheCrag has learned that he actually *does* need a second pair of hands to fill the dip tanks). I spent a good 10 minutes gently peeling off the dry mud from the leaves, and removing the few leaves that were not going to survive. Otherwise, it was treated no differently from any of the other plants.
Yup, the rumour mill was cranking things out at full tilt all day. "She's a plant whisperer," was one of the most annoying obviously predictable common things I heard. MrQ asked me if I talk to the foam, since my parts tend to have a less than 2% rejection rate (as opposed to the overall average of 12%). Well, that's nice to know, but no, I don't talk to foam. Threaten it, yes. Talk, no.
The funniest thing was that, when I went into the lunchroom at noon, there were four poinsettia plants camped out around the place I usually sit. What could I do? I watered them and dusted the leaves and bracts off. Que cera cera, eh?
So, yeah, they think I'm a bit strange... got them fooled but good!!