Sick Day

I'm sick.

Pretty gacky sick, to be honest.

So it's been me and my new best friend, Mr Pepto Bismol for the better part of two days now. It's pretty miserable, actually. And to reference my last post - it's one of those days when you wish your mom was there to pour ginger ale, warm you some soup, run out for saltine crackers and make sure you don't leave the sofa, except to use the bathroom.

But in the midst of my stomach trapeze act, I am warmed by a single thought - like a handmade quilt...

I am not at the Cube Farm.

I would rather groan on the sofa with Immodium and Chamomile tea than to sit at my cubicle and watch the big dog pace back and forth, checking for chairs that are not completely pushed in. (yes, I ended that sentence with a preposition. I'm sick, dammit, cut me some slack)

Anyway, I am going back to curling up on the couch and clutching my Pepto and drifting off into sweet dreams of far off lands without cubes. Where workers roam free through the fields of offices with doors and hour-long lunches. And in the background - no buzzing of florescent lighting or bells dinging to announce when you can get up from your seat. No - there will be music (hell, even musack) and days filled with the dream of meaningful work.

Zzzzzz......

Three Servings of Vegetables a Day

I used to have daydreams of what it would be like when I was finally a "grown up".

At my tender age of say - 14-ish, "grown up" meant living in my very own apartment with no one telling me to do my homework.

Some 20 years later I'm not so sure I want to be a grown up.

Sure, my parents no longer tell me to do my homework. No, no - now complete strangers tell me when to do my work and just how to do it and what I'll wear while doing it and at what speed I shall walk in the hallways and how much lighting I'll have to do my work and when to eat and when to go home. Just for starters.

And on top of that, no one is giving me an allowance for cleaning the bathroom or straightening up my bedroom. And no one praises me for doing the dishes. And no one reminds me to take out the garbage before it starts to smell a little funky.

Plus no one is making sure my alarm is set for the morning. And no one comes into my room and gently shakes me when I sleep through 6 "snoozes".

There's no one picking up the tab at the grocery store for those extravagances like mouthwash ($5.49) and cold medicine ($6.23)

Not to mention - there is absolutely no one making sure I eat my recommended daily allowances of the basic food groups. And since I just hate the store, my cupboards remain full of items with the longest shelf lives.

So until I win the lotto and can hire me a full-time mother on staff, it's up to me clean the toilet, do the dishes, wake up on time for work, remember to get my hair cut on occasion and eat three servings of vegetables a day.

Thank god for V-8.

A Kook for Queries

MB sent me this survey and you know I can't say "no"...

1. When I'm drunk, I tend to.....
Drunk dial

2. Shots or beer?
I hate needles, so we'll go with beer

3. Do you have a drinking buddy?
If you're my buddy, we drink

4. Do you get angry?
Only when I get kicked out of bars

5. Do you puke?
Two times ever. The first on JELL-O shots. Yeah, there's always room for JELL-O, especially after you make all kinds of room by puking your guts out. Who needs a small intestine anyway?

6. After 7 drinks who are you?
The girl serving tequila shots out of a Pepto Bismol cap (sorry MB)

8. Tequila does what to you?
I'm solid on tequila. As long as it's the good stuff ;-)

10. Vodka makes you?
A damn fine mixer for Cherry Coke

11. Do you smoke when you drink?
I'm "smokin'" when I drink, but I think you're asking something else

12. Do you pass out?
My number? Occasionally.

13. Do you drink girly drinks?
Nope. I leave that to the boys

14. Do you drink alone?
Not generally, but I did drink a couple over-priced beers on the 18-hour trip home from San Diego

15. Worst drink you have ever had?
I had a HORRIBLE dirty martini on my bday. What don't they get about olive juice?

16. Do you play drinking games?
Yes please. Can you say hysterical?

17. Favorite Beer?
Guiness, Oberon, Old Speckled Hen

18. What is your favorite shot?
There is no "favorite" there is only "is there a beer bottle I can spit this into?"

19. What will you NOT drink?
Whiskey. It's ruined for me. Ex-boyfriend used to smell like it frequently. Nothing like frenching a bottle of Jack Daniels

20. Are you a lightweight when it comes to alcohol?
I wish. No, I can hold my spirits

21. Do you ever drink bacardi silver?
what is that?

23. Do you like frozen drinks?
Nope - slows me down

24. Do you drink liquor straight?
RARELY

25. Do you ever drink out of the bottle?
Uh huh - can you say TAILGATE!!.

26. Are you drunk right now?
No, but with all this snow, I'm tempted.

27. Do you consume more than 2 alcoholic beverages on daily basis?
Would I admit it if I did?

28. Do you drink a lot of wine?
Oh dear lord, yes

29. When's the last time you drank?
Thursday. Wine. Tiaras.

30. Name someone that will repost this drinking survey-
Taylor might respond

31. Ever been streaking while drinking?
Skinny dipping count?.

32. Hot tub/pool naked because of alcohol?
Oh wait, see above

33. Failed any college courses due to alcohol alone?
You can't prove that!

34. Ever woken up & said "Dude where's my car?"
No, but I rarely say "Dude".

35. Ever carried someone up & down the same flight of stairs due to their drunkness?
I might consider dragging someone up and down the stairs by their ankles, but only to amuse myself.

36. Puked in a friend's car?
Oh thank god, I can say no. But I did have a friend in H.S. puke in my car. Potpourri Carpet Fresh is forever linked to the smell of vomi

Epitaph

I'm not sure if it is the storyteller in me or something more disturbingly morbid that ponders what folks will say about me when I'm "gone".

Anyway, I was e-mailing with a friend at work today (DISCLAIMER: except not really, because that's against the rules and quite simply, I would never break the rules) - so we're e-mailing and she was saying how some feature on a networking site was kind of dumb, but that didn't keep her from hearting it. As far as I'm concerned there are WAY worse descriptors. And that got me to thinking I wouldn't mind just such an eternal descriptor.

So those who will be in charge of such things (you know who you are) keep this in mind when it comes to the ol' marble and granite..

"For I Am A Pirate King"

That is to say, when it comes to the Cube Farm - I am considered a bit of a rogue. Less of the pillaging and plundering and more of the covert operations that, in fact, get real work done.

That is to say, I occasionally ignore the rules.

The rules at the Farm are great in number. We have manuals and work instructions and policies and, yes, procedures. We love us a good policy and procedure. And while I am all for living in an orderly society. I don't think I need a rule about how many pictures to post in my cubicle, nor how fast I should walk in the hallway (do not get me started on that one....well, tonight anyway).

So, I've gone a little Gilbert & Sullivan and gotten together some mateys of a similar ilk. We call ourselves "sanctioned pirates". That is to say, we are given some mighty goals and objectives and when no one's looking - we actually achieve them. I promise you - if I had to follow the rules, it would take me a whole day to log onto my computer.

And I'll tell you this - it feels good to be a pirate. No, I'll never have jewels and gold in a giant chest, and one day I shouldn't be surprised if they make me walk the plank. But today, I can hold my head high (well, as high as is allowed in the Farm) and know that sometimes rogue is the only way to go. And anyone who has felt the wind on their face out on the open seas of Corporate America will tell you - it's good to be a pirate.


For a little on my favorite Corporate Pirate, visit Captain Steve Crescenzo...