Seven Minutes in a Cubicle

I can’t promise this will be as fun as Seven Minutes in Heaven, but here I go…

You know you’re having one of those weeks when it’s only Wednesday and you’re craving vending machine chocolate. Luckily I’m not the one with the craving! Suzie Q is neck high in work and found my observation very amusing. By Thursday she might be considering a cocktail at lunch, and girlfriend doesn’t even drink!

Speaking of drinks, The Pink Fairy and I got down with our bad selves on Monday during our makeshift Happy Hour. We drank a bottle of champagne–to toast our merry times and to say farewell–and danced like it was 1999. Seriously, we danced like we used to at school dances. We did the Sprinkler, the Brass Monkey, the Lighthouse, and my personal favorite, the Jennie Candid. Jennie’s specialty was standing with her legs open and bent at the knees. She’d swing one arm in front and one in back and smile like a manic, wood-toothed mannequin. We both laughed so hard I almost had an asthma attack. I wish I was laughing now, but it might seem a little crazy since I’m sitting at my semi-cubicle.

I managed to turn a busy day into a day of repose. It’s an art form I think. I spent a good thirty minutes filling in my pretty little planner and reading the daily quotes. They’re supposed to be inspirational, but I find them to be gut wrenching, ass kicking, and tragically insightful. Here’s one to suck on: “It’s a sad day when you find out that it’s not accident or time or fortune but just yourself that kept things from you.” That Lillian Hellman goes straight for the jugular.

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