I storm straight into the lunch room on a Monday morning (off course only to drop off my lunch bag into the fridge). As most of you don't know, folks in THE OFFICE are health freaks. So there is this person who got this one-freaking-gallon bottle of Orange Juice and shoved it in the fridge.
AND NEVER TOUCHED IT.
FOR MONTHS.
What made matters worse was an exceptionally long power outage over the weekend which provided the best conditions for the juice to ferment from acid to alcohol.
AND BURST OUT OF THE BOTTLE.
COMPLETELY THROWN ALL OVER THE FRIDGE.
SEEPING OUT ALL OVER THE FLOOR.
AND I FIND MYSELF STANDING IN THIS STICCCKKKY FLUID DISGUISED AS WATER ON A MONDAY MORNING.
HELLO? GOOD MORNING!
Well, the combination of the powercut and acidic/alcoholic stench was strong enough to convert the milk in a bottle to form yogurt.
And then I realized the power outage had messed with the VOIP server to pull down my desk phone for God knows how long.
AND my machine (that has many official dependents some across ponds) was shut down.
Well, big deal!
So we turn on the computer and after an eon or two as the machine loads up, I fire up the local EMail client.
The first mail of the week was a price drop alert on a personal air ticket I bought last week.
A FREAKISHLY LARGE THREE-DIGIT-DROP.
Well, well.
In the next few hours I hear an update from my dearest friend of 25 years about his trip to Chicago.
US VISA PETITION REJECTED.
Shouldn't really matter, I'll travel around to see him this year anyway. Except under a crunched itinerary. In Asia.
Meanwhile I had to make a few overseas calls from my cellphone seated in a locus of coordinates which do not happen to receive the least required signal strength for acceptable audio communication. Switching back and forth between phone and chat was fun.
A DECADE AGO.
Now it tasted like corporal punishment.
So what, the day continues.
Oh, L wrote to ask if there was an update from a S-V-Based-Billion$-Product-Company that we're in talks with. I wrote a negative response in reply and was about to hit send when it dawned on me that _poor_ guy from the said firm must have tried my desk number and ... well you know ... felt a *little* disappointed.
Send an email update with a new number.
And its _just_ 1545. Will keep adding as the fun continues.
AND NEVER TOUCHED IT.
FOR MONTHS.
What made matters worse was an exceptionally long power outage over the weekend which provided the best conditions for the juice to ferment from acid to alcohol.
AND BURST OUT OF THE BOTTLE.
COMPLETELY THROWN ALL OVER THE FRIDGE.
SEEPING OUT ALL OVER THE FLOOR.
AND I FIND MYSELF STANDING IN THIS STICCCKKKY FLUID DISGUISED AS WATER ON A MONDAY MORNING.
HELLO? GOOD MORNING!
Well, the combination of the powercut and acidic/alcoholic stench was strong enough to convert the milk in a bottle to form yogurt.
And then I realized the power outage had messed with the VOIP server to pull down my desk phone for God knows how long.
AND my machine (that has many official dependents some across ponds) was shut down.
Well, big deal!
So we turn on the computer and after an eon or two as the machine loads up, I fire up the local EMail client.
The first mail of the week was a price drop alert on a personal air ticket I bought last week.
A FREAKISHLY LARGE THREE-DIGIT-DROP.
Well, well.
In the next few hours I hear an update from my dearest friend of 25 years about his trip to Chicago.
US VISA PETITION REJECTED.
Shouldn't really matter, I'll travel around to see him this year anyway. Except under a crunched itinerary. In Asia.
Meanwhile I had to make a few overseas calls from my cellphone seated in a locus of coordinates which do not happen to receive the least required signal strength for acceptable audio communication. Switching back and forth between phone and chat was fun.
A DECADE AGO.
Now it tasted like corporal punishment.
So what, the day continues.
Oh, L wrote to ask if there was an update from a S-V-Based-Billion$-Product-Company that we're in talks with. I wrote a negative response in reply and was about to hit send when it dawned on me that _poor_ guy from the said firm must have tried my desk number and ... well you know ... felt a *little* disappointed.
Send an email update with a new number.
And its _just_ 1545. Will keep adding as the fun continues.
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