Wrong side

When I was in middle school, I used to daydream that the school should provide us with little cars to drive around the building. While that would be fun, the major impetus in my mind was that then we would all have to follow the traffic laws--waiting at stoplights at the intersections between hallways, staying on the appropriate side of the hallway, and signalling to cross the hallway to access your locker. I could've used that structure yesterday.

I was turning the corner as I returned to my office yesterday afternoon. I was thinking about my weekend plans, completely lost in thought, and didn't notice my coworker walking towards me until he said my name mere inches from me. I shrieked in surprise, stopping just short of running into him. I giggled nervously and apologized. My coworker laughed and we carefully passed each other on our way to our separate destinations.

Another coworker approached me a little later when I was up getting water. "So who'd you almost run into in the hallway?" When I told him, he smiled. "Was he on his side of the road?"

"No, he wasn't."

"Well, he is from Canada--maybe he isn't used to our driving laws yet."

Workland security

My boss and I were commiserating over the ridiculous filing system at my job--basically a random four-digit number assigned to each project.

"It is impossible to find anything without the master list!" she complained.

"There is one good thing about it," I replied. "Terrorists won't be able to find anything either!"

Dreaming of you

I came slowly awake at nearly 1am mumbling in response to something you said. My eyes shot open when I realized that I must've fallen asleep talking to you. I realized that I didn't have my cell phone in my hand. I began patting around my body, searching sightlessly in the dark for my small black phone.

My feelings of panic increased and I began to widen my search area, hopping out of bed and patting all the bedcovers. I turned my head to the side and saw the small appliance, neatly plugged in and placed on the corner of my bedside table. Seeing it reminded me of you sweetly saying goodnight to me, and my sleepy struggle to plug the charger into the small hole on its base.

I love talking to you in the dark before I fall asleep, but apparently last night I loved it so much that I dreamt it continued after I burrowed into my blankets and fell asleep.

Open letter

They played that Madonna song yesterday afternoon--you all know which one. I turned the volume in my car up to insanely loud and it instantly transported me back to all those late nights in hotel bars, the way all the women in the chapter would run onto the floor when the DJ played it. Dates and friends practically shoved out of the way, everyone singing along at the top of their voices--just like I was in my own car. In a way, that song should've been further proof that as an adviser, I was an outsider. But I always loved hearing it--audible proof of the sisterhood that I spend hours every week fostering and encouraging. One tradition that never changed during those 5 years, that I never had reservations about.

I'd do it again in a heartbeat. That song will always take me there.

Proof

We had an insurance presentation at lunch today. The presenter started out giving away a stuffed, quacking duck and promised us more prizes if we could answer her "quiz questions" at the end.

Fast forward to the end... the guy next to me got his small stuffed duck and the only prize left was a drink cozy to keep a can cold. One thing you probably don't know about me is that I don't really drink anything that come out of a can--not soda and not beer, so I have no use for that cozy. But who spoke up first? Me. I just have to prove that I know the answer.

Today

When my alarm went off this morning I thought, "Yay, it's Friday--I can just toss on a pair of jeans and go."

Then I realized it wasn't Friday. "Oh well, Thursday means the week is almost over."

And as my brain cleared a little more? "It's Wednesday? No, can't I just sleep until the week is over?"

Career change

I was standing at the copier, alongside our marketing director, when another engineer walked up to me and asked, "How's the modeling going?"

I started to reply when our marketing director began to laugh heartily. I broke off my reply and we both turned to stare at her. She put her hand on my shoulder and through her giggles, explained, "For a minute I thought he was talking about your new career."

"Of course," I laughed. "I'm on my way to being a supermodel."

The other engineer laughed and then tried to get back on track, "How's the sewer modelling?" He started to laugh. "That's even worse," he said as he demonstrated the Vanna White moves necessary to model with sewer pipes. We discussed business for a moment and as I was leaving, I began to laugh again. "Too bad I'm not a transportation engineer."

"Why?"

"Because then I'd be doing runway modeling!"