Thursday, May 29, 2008

Whistle While you Complain... I Mean... Work.

I've only got 8 minutes (to save the world?) before my lunch break is over.
What can I do in 8 minutes?

I know!

Complain!

You know those people who think that when they are on the phone nobody can hear them? Those people who get a personal call, in their open cubical, and talk as if they are at a rock concert and they are trying to tell a story over the screaming crowd?

We have one of those at work.

Except this time, she actually got up and went into another room. Unfortunatley, this was an empty conference room that created an echo effect when she started yelling. This meant that all of us could hear here telling a story about god knows what.

But it included the line: and he grabbed her boobs...

Um... we are still at work? Right? Isn't that a conversation that should be had... not at work. Or at least not in an echoing room that allows this whole side of the building to hear her.

I was writing something down, and I stopped, closed my eyes, and said What. The. Hell.

In other musings, a woman brought chocolate chip cookies today. BUT, these were made with whole wheat flour and applesauce in place of butter. ALAS, they are healthy for you. That knocks off two food groups right there. Three if, like me, you consider chocolate an essential part of your dietary needs.

Uh-oh... one more minute left and I haven't found a picture... better get some more health cookies and start posting.

I have offensive loud telephone calls to pretend to ignore for the remainder of my day...