Finally back at work.
Still have the Bronchitis.... Still providing a natural habitat for the oysters of death. Voice is back although it is weak and shakey. Trying not to use it any more than I have to. I feel like a deflated balloon. Steroid inhalers taste like paint. Paint is not supposed to be good for the insides of people... 'splain Lucy!
Trying to be Zen about the world as I really seem to have no other choice. For today's meditation I will focus on sleeping with my eyes open while doing work.
My fingers are not connected to my lungs, why is it that even typing is making me winded?
It would not be work without some amusing thing happening involving the distinct lack of culture in this room, here is the not so delightful story De Jour:
Someone left a box of Petits Fours for the department. Apparently no one bothered to read the box before opening it... Pretty gold box, lets just tear into it shall we? Anyway... one of the girls decides that these are the best things she has ever encountered! She reminds me a lot of Eliza Doolittle if she were from this area of the world....That may help when reading this.
"Who thought of making tiny little stacked up cakes and covering them in chocolate?" She asked "Um, the French?" I replied. Apparently she didn't hear me. "Them is good, you should try one!" She offers them around the office. I take mine and say "Oh, I love Petit Fours! Thank you!" To which she responds: "Yeah, theese are good huh? Does anyone know what they are called?" *headdesk headdesk* She then tries to reconstruct the lid of the box enough to read it. "Pet..its. pet its.... Pet its what?.... That is a funny name for cake! Maybe it is 'cause they are so cute huh? Look! a box of little Pet cakes!"
I looked at the box: "Petits fours. Un gourmet importé de la province française de Bourgogne" Imported from Burgundy....Apparently someone loves us quite a bit... It seems I have two options today: I can figure out how to make a collar and a leash for a small chocolate confection and laugh at this whole situation, or I can cry... a lot.
Trying to be Zen about the world as I really seem to have no other choice. For today's meditation I will focus on sleeping with my eyes open while doing work.
My fingers are not connected to my lungs, why is it that even typing is making me winded?
It would not be work without some amusing thing happening involving the distinct lack of culture in this room, here is the not so delightful story De Jour:
Someone left a box of Petits Fours for the department. Apparently no one bothered to read the box before opening it... Pretty gold box, lets just tear into it shall we? Anyway... one of the girls decides that these are the best things she has ever encountered! She reminds me a lot of Eliza Doolittle if she were from this area of the world....That may help when reading this.
"Who thought of making tiny little stacked up cakes and covering them in chocolate?" She asked "Um, the French?" I replied. Apparently she didn't hear me. "Them is good, you should try one!" She offers them around the office. I take mine and say "Oh, I love Petit Fours! Thank you!" To which she responds: "Yeah, theese are good huh? Does anyone know what they are called?" *headdesk headdesk* She then tries to reconstruct the lid of the box enough to read it. "Pet..its. pet its.... Pet its what?.... That is a funny name for cake! Maybe it is 'cause they are so cute huh? Look! a box of little Pet cakes!"
I looked at the box: "Petits fours. Un gourmet importé de la province française de Bourgogne" Imported from Burgundy....Apparently someone loves us quite a bit... It seems I have two options today: I can figure out how to make a collar and a leash for a small chocolate confection and laugh at this whole situation, or I can cry... a lot.