Monday, April 27, 2009

I am the office Farrah

If you're a friend of mine on Twitter, you know that I am very predictable. At least 40% of my updates are hummus-related (the other 60% involve Flight of the Conchords). I eat my morning snack at roughly 10:30, as mentioned, and have done so for the past three years. Usually, it involves the best hummus ever (well, at least from the selection at the Kroger down the street).

A few years ago, I noticed that my hummus stockpile was depleting at a more rapid pace than usual, but I attributed it to my own absent-mindedness and lack of awareness about my own hummus intake. One day, though, it was clear when I looked at the scraped-clean container that something was amiss. Someone had been helping him or her self to the manna from heaven! Despite weeks of complaining and passive-aggressive notes, I never did discover who the culprit was. I suspect this person is no longer with our company, because my hummus has remained unburgled ever since.

My boss found this gem in our new building before it was gutted and renovated, and gave it to me in honor of my extreme crustiness about the Hummus Debacle. I still have it hanging in my cubicle as a reminder to be vigilant with passive-aggressive notes whenever such situations arise.

Part 1:
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Part 2:
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Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Shy & Afraid of Everything

I thought I'd take this opportunity to share a story about my childhood (but really to brag about how I'm a fast reader).

For reasons not interesting enough to mention, I was wracking my brain today to recall some memories from preschool. My memory is sketchy at best, so I could only come up with three or four. Each one only served to further reinforce the fact that I was easily the shyest kid alive. There was the time I was afraid to give my teacher a note about missing a day; the time I dropped one of my favorite rainbow barrettes in the toilet but was afraid to tell my mom what happened to it: you get the picture.

The one that takes the cake is when I was afraid to tell my teacher that I was finished with an assignment because I figured she'd think I was lying about my own mad skills. Everyone in the class had to read this workbook about brown bears, and we were supposed to tell the teacher when we'd completed it so that we could move on to the workbook about polar bears or some such. I finished, but was too shy to say anything so I just waited until the next person was done (it happened to be my preschool crush) and piggybacked on that. So dreamy mcpreschoolerton got all the accolades for finishing first, and I came in a false second.

Lesson: I rock hard at some things, but my overactive imagination keeps me from getting the credit I so clearly deserve.