Sometimes I get the song “Be Our Guest” stuck in my head. Only at work and it’s not just occasionally, it’s often. Like, once a week. I don’t know if it’s because the tune is so adaptable, if the lyrics are so generic that I accidentally say parts of them, or if Mrs. Potts is just inside my head.
Dear Aladdin cup company,
If you’re going to label something as a “travel mug,” one of the first qualifications should be “fits in cup holder.” Another should be “doesn’t spill.”
Also, I’d like my twelve dollars back.
Thanks.
My office desk is at the main door. Which means it is the first flat surface on your way in and the first flat surface on your way out. People tend to set things down and then forget all about them. I leave the items out in the open for their owner, but nobody comes. It’s as if they’re saying: “Here; I don’t have the heart to throw this away. Will you please do it for me?” And I usually do because I don’t like clutter in my work space.
This morning there was a large round shaped object in a garbage bag on the corner of my desk. I get in at 8am. Most people who work here get in at 8am. Either someone dropped it off over the weekend, or one of the shop people walked it up to my desk and left it early this morning. I’m a curious person so I poked it and it squished and I was immediately freaked it. I unwrapped part of the garbage bag and found what appeared to be a cake. I bundled it back up and left it there, because surely, someone did not just leave left over birthday cake on my desk. All morning, it was the office chatter. What is this? Who left it? Obviously, it’s cake which you know because you unwrapped the garbage bag. No, I don’t know who left it or else I would have told them to take it along. At least 4 people questioned me about the cake. I got annoyed and took it to the break room where leftovers go to die. This is also the same room I eat lunch in. Alone. Reading a book. People leave food on the “free counter” in the break room all the time. It is not unusual. After Christmas, there were days worth of solid cookies and red wrapped boxed chocolates. People don’t usually question those. They just eat them and go about heating their leftovers in the microwave.
Every person who came in questioned me and the open air about the cake. What is this? Who left it? Why is it shaped like a basket ball? Who would buy a black cake? Is it two tiered? It was as if I did not leave someone’s old cake on the counter, but instead a 3 legged 2 headed goat I slaughtered and attached a note that read, “Please! Ask me about my goat!” Never before has left over food made such a stir. Maybe a memo goes out and that I don’t get copied into when people leave food in there.
“Good morning! Tyler’s b-day went well. I’m glad so many of you could make it. For those of you who missed out (shame on you! Hahah!), I’ve left some of his party cake in the break room—Please help yourself!! I know I don’t need to eat it!! HAHA!!! Have a great day!”
JD, Please note: The cake had dowels in it. !!!!!
