An hour into day two and I’m already boreder than a collie. And I’ve got the bad puns to prove it.
There’s only so much rearranging of one’s desktop, both virtual and literal, that one can do. Plus, I’ve already eaten my entire day’s stash of banana muffins (I couldn’t find the banana bread tin but the muffin tins were accessible, hence the muffinage). I ponder-- does my red swingline stapler look better next to the giant monitors taking up half of my desk, or maybe over here by the six foot stack of papers and binders left by the previous resident of my dungeonous cube? Hm. Hard to tell. Close call. Could go either way.
No one knows yet, but I’m leaving work early today. A mere 5.35 hours from now. Shhhh…!
Reasons for my early departure today are threefold, submitted as evidence a, b, and c:
a) Alarming Car Concerns: My parents are on their way down to trade cars with me, in order to have my battery-sucking hypertension causing aftermarket alarm removed. No one down here; not the dealerships, not even the aftermarket alarm specialists, will touch my car. They’re all: “oh no no no no no, you gotta take that thing back to where you bought it”. Then they back away from me, waving their arms, as if both the car and I have some sort of highly contagious flesh eating gonorrhea.
So, back to
Worse yet, they could let my brother drive it.
b) Residence Relevance: There’s an increasing likelihood that I may actually make the milestone jump from ghetto renter, to ghetto-elderly condo owner. I’m all starry-eyed about the kitchen construction and B’s done a great job of counting the electrical outlets, but I still need my mommy and daddy to check the place out before I proceed. Natch.
c) Community Service: If I don’t leave early, well, it’s just not good for anyone when I’m this bored all day. The repercussions can be felt far and wide. From unfounded nasty remarks about my brothers’ driving to all-fours hissing at the cat. Surely, the kid who likes to blow a whistle while kicking an empty soda can around the parking lot all afternoon won’t appreciate how my leaving work just a few hours early will likely saved his young life, (or, at the very least, saved him the discomfort of passing a plastic whistle through his intestine) but it just might nonetheless.