A Walk on the Wild -Powder Room- side…

I’ve pretty much solidified my walking route home…when I get to walk, that is.  We’ve had a lot of wet weather so far this summer.  Last week, I got 2 clear days to walk – the remainder of the week had rolling storms consigning me to watching the world through streaky windshield wipers.  This week was a bit better…but I think my demon-weather summoning fat cells are continuing their spell work.

On the (not) plus (-size anymore) side – I had to make another journey to Goodwill and St. Vincent de Paul for smaller pants – the 16’s finally got to the point of ‘I don’t need to unbutton the fly to take them off.’  I stocked up on some funky shirts while I was there.  I may actually LIKE going clothing shopping again.  Three cheeses for Ketosis!!!

Hip Hip Havarti!!!!  Hip Hip Havarti!!!!  Hip Hip Havarti!!!!

Some of my more dirt-minded (NOT dirtY-minded…watch the difference :D) co-workers have started to lament on the status of their gardens.  Vegetable gardens all over the area are starting to look pretty sad with all the moisture coming down.  Plants need sunshine as well as water, and they’re starting to REALLY need a few hot, sunny days.

I hope things turn around, for Erica’s Garden’s Sake.  Cucumbers should be cherished!

Aaaaaanywaaaaaaaaaaay….

Today’s walk started out pretty normal.  Some sunshine peeking through the clouds, a bit of a breeze, a selection of my favorite tunes queued up on my iPod.

Through the industrial leg.  Check.

Past the Greenspace.  Check.

Homage given to the Fox River….Check.

It’s that witchy thing, where I bow to the river.  Just go with it…

Down into Bethesda Park….check.

Now wait a minute…what’s THAT?

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No…not that.  THAT…

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There…on the light post…

 

OH MY GAWD!

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It can’t be…but it is…

That innocent little cup from work…the one that broke containment a couple of months ago…is now stalking me on my walking route!

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Goodbye Darkness, my old friend…

Right…

I haven’t had a drop of anything caffeinated since the fascinating brush with the new pain chart last week won me an all-expenses-NOT-paid trip to the ER via ambulance last week.  It was a hard decision.

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I had been drinking the occasional energy drink on the weekends, because I wanted something sweet and cold, instead of hot. (Not that big a deal – they’re loaded with chemical stimulants, anyway…)

 

 

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The Diet Coke is now officially history.  (ditto – chemical shit-storm, anyone?)

 

 

 

 

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But the coffee & cream in the AM?

**sob**

Gawd, I miss my coffee…

 

 

 

 

Oddly enough, it’s not missed nearly as much when I walk as when I drive in to work.  The fresh air, exercise, and sunshine must be fully waking me up so I don’t NEED  my coffee in those mornings…but when I end up having to drive in to work, I feel my ass just a-draggin all day long.

 

I have to wave valiantly to you, my dark, hot, creamy & sweet (thanks to some Torani syrups) lover…but the romance is over.  Maybe you and Catherine’s Clothing Stores can get together?

 

Now what am I gonna do with my funny coffee cup collection?

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Powder Room Mystery – the Panic is REAL

I just went to the restroom at work again.

 

Nope…he’s not on the sink anymore:

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He’s not in the lounge, either:

 

I wandered about the office – he’s not ANYWHERE.  I even checked in with the guy in the corner office:

New CEO

I think the guy in the corner office is kinda an airhead

 

The only thing I can think is…the cup…has…ESCAPED.

 

Do you hear me, folks?  The cup has broken containment – he’s loose upon the world!

RUN FOR THE HILLS!

 

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Public Enemy #1

The Continuing Mystery of Powder Room Mayhem…

I went to the bathroom at work this morning.

Well, when ya gotta go…

And the little cup was no longer in the stall.

**Sob**

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He’s now on the sink.  The sucker is MOBILE!

**sentience in plastics?  Is this how you get Skynet???**

I feel as if someone in this odd, work/potty relationship has either dodged a bullet, or just  witnessed the beginning of the end of the Human species…and I’m not sure if I should be excited, or terrified.

At least I’ll be in the right place if I get the shit scared outta me.

 

Mystery in the Powder Room

As most of us spend 8+ hours/5 days per week at a job that’s not attached to our home, most business locations feature restroom facilities – unless your employer requires you to be male and outdoorsy, in which case there are plenty of trees to choose from.

just stay away from electric fences…

 

For a little better than a week now in my employer’s bathroom – this has been sitting on top of the toilet paper in the stall I frequent:

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421-national-surprise-drug-test-day

 

Given that 420 was less than 2 weeks ago, and this was a popular meme on Facebook at the same time – it’s not hard to connect a few dots and visualize this little cup having a purpose other than what it was created for…

 

The company I work for is a large-scale food manufacturer, and this is one of our sample containers.  Now…how it got from the shop floor, across the warehouse floor, up the stairs, and into the business office’s ladies room is one mystery – and the reason it hasn’t vanished is a second, bonus mystery.

Personally, I just find it hysterical.  Any time I’ve needed a laugh in the past week, I just go potty.

 

***Official Disclaimer***

Although I haven’t personally indulged in botanical recreation for a long…LONG time, I have no trouble supporting those who do.  With all the atrocities committed by one human on another human in this world, we could all do a lot worse than absorbing a chemical substance who’s only side effects are calmness, relaxedness, and a penchant for crunchy, salty snacks.

And – if you believe the hype – a potential cure for some cancers.

So…blaze on, my friends, if you so desire – we need all the relaxed, calm, ‘I need Potato Chips!’ people this world can give us.

 

 

My Stuff – Flash Fiction

Greg at Almost Iowa offered up a challenge on his post the other day…pick an object, and write an essay or a bit of flash fiction about it.

Rose lineup Flash Fiction

Greg…ya had me at Flash Fiction 😀

Sooooo…live and in living color, straight from my work desk to your screen…I present you with:

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The Smurf and the Wookie…

…A love story

A story by Peyton

A very long time ago, in an office far, far away, a little girl sat, eating her happy meal, trying very hard not to look at the toy.  It was brown and horrible-looking, and, worst of all…it was the toy given to the boys at McDonalds, not the girls.

But Mommy had promised to fix it after work, IF she was good…so she ruthlessly shoved a few more french fries into her mouth, and tried very hard not to look at the boring plastic shape.

 

“Maybe,” she thought, chewing through her last bite of hamburger, “the nice lady by the front phones will talk to me?”  So, looking carefully around the cubicle wall for Mommy, she darted across the hall and up to the front desk, boring brown plastic shape still clutched firmly in a fistful of ketchup-stained fries.

Today, the nice lady was in Daddy’s office with Mommy, talking about boring things.

AH!

On the nice lady’s desk, perched proudly next to the plastic cup of paper-clips, a little form in blue and white.

“Well…that Smurf is a LOT prettier than this old brown thing…”

So, up on the nice lady’s chair she went…

The Smurf and the Wookie had a glorious time that Wednesday afternoon at Mommy’s office – they danced on the nice lady’s desk, they played hide & seek in the file cabinet, they squished the french fries because they were really, REALLY big worms.  AND…the best part was when the smurf tied the Wookie in a big chain of paper clips.

After all that – the little girl decided the Wookie couldn’t go home with her and leave his best play-friend behind… (and, besides, Mommy said she’d fix it, so she was getting a new toy!)  With the logic of youth, the Wookie had to stay, happy and proud to be on the nice lady’s desk with his buddy the Smurf.

And the nice lady said she could play with the both of them anytime she had to come with Mommy to the office.

 

 

To this day, the Smurf and the Wookie hang out on my desk, smelling slightly of that epic, long ago french fry/gigantic worm ketchup-smothered battle.

They’re still best buddies.

toys at the bar

T(ISFOYC)IF!

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Thank (Insert Supernatural Figure of your Choosing) it’s FRIDAY!

Today is Friday.  For millions of people in the states, that means the end of the workweek, and the appreciation of 2 whole days in the immediate future where you don’t have to sell your labors to continue to be warm, fed, sheltered, entertained, and amused.

Granted, we still have to get through the final day of the workweek – but, hey…who doesn’t slack a little on the nine to fiver when Friday afternoon rolls around?

maxresdefaultI did, briefly, have a genuine 9-5+paid lunch!  I also got two ‘breaks’ within the day, but those were assigned to run to the post office (one to pick up mail, one to drop off mail…) so they don’t count.  A ‘break’ from work, in my mind, means I have time for a snack and a book.  Driving my car to the middle of the village to do the mail is NOT a break…it’s a task.

This particular nine to fiver was office ‘manager’ for a small Real Estate firm.  Unlike most management positions – I had nobody who answered to me – everyone answered to the Broker/owner of the firm.  I had a title, and a list of ‘things’ to manage, but I think you’ll agree the title was pretty much name only.

Still…the title would have looked impressive on a resume if I’d decided to list the position on it.

It was one of the two jobs where I got soundly fired.  It really sucks when personal ethics get in the way of job performance…

See – the broker in this small firm had a daughter.  The daughter was one of the agents at the firm.  The daughter, like many other young women in this country, had a couple of kids, was a single mom, struggled to make ends meet, and accepted county assistance available to her.

So, in Early October, when the Broker announced daughter would be getting no additional commission checks in the year (to stay below income caps on child-care assistance) and instead would have all daughter’s commissions paid out to HER, instead – well…I couldn’t stay silent.

Silence, in this case, could quickly morph into accessory to fraud.

Yes, I will fully admit, I handled the situation badly.  I was bald and harsh in my refusal to alter any upcoming payroll/commission records.  I did, in fact, use the term ‘cooking the books.’

Predictably, I got rank and file.  I got the ‘How DARE you’s,’ and the ‘Where do YOU come off telling ME how to run MY business?’  I got yelled at until the Broker was an amusing shade of purple.

And I got the demand to clean out the desk.

The funny part?  After the personal stuff was packed in the car and I was on my way home as an unemployed person (oh…the shame?) – I stopped at the Temp Agency I’d worked through before this job, and let them know I was, once again, available for work.

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They put me in a position THAT AFTERNOON.  Granted, it was on a shop floor.  Very physical labor pounding the warp out of engine parts.  The Temp Agent said “I figured you needed something to burn off some of that aggravation.”

 

 

Fired in the AM – at a new job by noon…banging away at metal while imagining a very specific set of faces within the mottled surfaces.