Work
Work: A story of desperation and cola products
I'm at work right now. It was not, but a few moments ago that I began staring blankly at a half empty coke can teetering on the edge of my desk. Its sultry cylindrical shape was noticeably unbalenced, most likely by mystical gravitational forces of which I may never fully comprehend. Would the can fall and cause a horrendous stain? What would be the repercussions of this precedented calamity? I did not wish to find the solution to these questions. The can's fate and the welfare of the floors seamless mocha coloring were dependent on whether or not I corrected the can's defected position. Going against my lethargic nature and apathetic principles I shot my hand out quickly, readying my-self to meet the smooth damp texture of the perspiring aluminum coke can. Then.... the unthinkable happend. One of my co-workers threw a stapler at my head. OH! the pain. Distracted by the throbbing sticking sensation along the right side of my head I knocked the can over. Time seemed to slow to half its usual procession as I watched the can tumble through the air, and ultimately come crashing in a splattering carmel colored denouement. All was lost. My good intentions and break from apathy were fruitless. How can one go on with such failure in their past?
I'm at work right now. It was not, but a few moments ago that I began staring blankly at a half empty coke can teetering on the edge of my desk. Its sultry cylindrical shape was noticeably unbalenced, most likely by mystical gravitational forces of which I may never fully comprehend. Would the can fall and cause a horrendous stain? What would be the repercussions of this precedented calamity? I did not wish to find the solution to these questions. The can's fate and the welfare of the floors seamless mocha coloring were dependent on whether or not I corrected the can's defected position. Going against my lethargic nature and apathetic principles I shot my hand out quickly, readying my-self to meet the smooth damp texture of the perspiring aluminum coke can. Then.... the unthinkable happend. One of my co-workers threw a stapler at my head. OH! the pain. Distracted by the throbbing sticking sensation along the right side of my head I knocked the can over. Time seemed to slow to half its usual procession as I watched the can tumble through the air, and ultimately come crashing in a splattering carmel colored denouement. All was lost. My good intentions and break from apathy were fruitless. How can one go on with such failure in their past?