Chaos

Today is not the usual Friday. Today the office has been taken over, not with sleepy nine-to-fivers who are pretending they are working until they can quietly slip out to happy hour, but with herds of hungry, ravished, panicked people. Stampedes of ‘em!

Make-it-or-break-it deadlines this week have led to an influx in food in this place. Every day this week we’ve had lunch catered in—Greek food, Chinese food, pizza, sandwiches, cookies (mound and mounds of fresh baked globs of goodness!), apple pie, peach pie, catered in breakfasts of yogurt and coffee cake and granola and bagels. *whew!*

I am convinced my company is trying to make me fat. I will stay convinced until my HR “Health and the Workplace” newsletter is found in my inbox sometime next week.

Today brings out the best and worst in people. One co-worker props his feet up on his desk while he and I watch clips of Tom Cruise and Oprah. Another brags about the fact that she hasn’t gained weight this week, and lists out what she eats every single day. And I’ve taken to counting the number of times a certain person says “Correct!” in a conversation.

The biggest drama this afternoon was when someone came by our pizza party and proceeded to pick toppings off of the pizza, dipping their pale slimy fingers in and out of each pizza box, picking the toppings as though they were berries. Licking those mouse-like hands after every bite. *Shudder*

And let’s not forget it’s Mother’s Day in a few days, people. Our department is having a competition of sorts. It’s called: Who’s Yo Mamma? Participants bring in a picture of their mother and then we have to guess whose mom is whose. The two black people in my department refuse to participate because they know the odds are against them.

Another tray of cookies has arrived. Someone. Help. Me.

Jo. Signing off.

P.S. I’m in Arizona this weekend. Two weeks ‘til Croatia.