Courtesy of the “Drafts” folder of my email account, I present to you a snapshot of my day at work, “my day” consisting of the fact that I got to work just a few minutes before lunchtime. Look, it’s like blogging in real-time! Except, not.
12noon – Whole loaf of bread + a sauce/dip that tastes like a mix of chutney and ranch dressing = HELLA GOOD food from La Bou.
2:05pm – After hearing nonstop laughter from across the aisle for the past ten minutes, co-worker B calls out from his cubicle that he is slightly concerned at the pin-drop silence that has unexpectedly followed. Yeah, so am I.
2:30pm – Just got back from moving our cars. Somayya got the chorus of the “Brass monkey junky, that funky monkey” song stuck in my head. It’s now playing on repeat in my brain, thanksverymuch. I looked down while walking and exclaimed, “DUDE! It should be illegal for a Pakistani person’s feet to be this white!” My feet, I mean. Also, co-worker P freaked me out by plastering herself against my driver’s side window just as I was about to start pulling away from the curb. On the way back to the office, I made sure to walk without stepping directly on any of the sidewalk cracks. I seem to be doing this a lot lately. Clearly, I have some serious obsessive-compulsive disorder issues.
3:18pm – How come the computer I wanted to use earlier had no mouse attached to the keyboard? I mean, come on, people. I can understand us pilfering one another’s staple removers, but the mouse? Geez louise. What sorta desperation does that take?
3:19pm – I’m hungry. I guess a whole loaf of bread wasn’t enough.
3:34pm – I’m also highly in need of some entertainment. Like, moving my car again, even though I’ve got over an hour left on my parking spot.
3:42pm – I’m cleaning out my work email inox and laughing at an email exchange between myself and G, who now works up on the 4th floor as opposed to the 2nd floor where the rest of us are. Moving on up in the world, aren’t we.
Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2005 2:15:45 -0800
From: Yasmine
To: G
Subject: what’s eating gilbert grape?ello, g!
life is so boring on the second floor without your lazy self here. who am i going to practice my fobby desi accent on NOW?! just when i got used to this whole hindku/punjabi thing, you had to go and leave us. come visit us soon. also, bring your wife, too! cuz you promised you would bring her to the office. so make sure you do so. i will harass you til you do. meanwhile, be good, and make sure you clean the house nicely so your wife will be all impressed when she comes.
have beautiful days,
-yasmineDate: Mon, 14 Feb 2005 10:52:32 -0800
From: G
To: Yasmine
Subject: Re: what’s eating gilbert grape?Thanx fer the advice te will surely bring her over. Meanwhile how is everyone doin downstairs? I make it a point to come there atleast once a day. So let me know your schedule te will be there to see ya.
Bakee all is good.
You take Care.
G
His usage of te [and] as well as bakee [the rest/everything else] are killing me.
3:50pm – Wish I could access blogger.com from work. Or update my blog via email, except I can’t remember how I’m supposed to do that. What a process. I guess I’ll have to post this later, and, by then, it won’t make sense even to me. Grand.
4:10pm – Somayya has abandoned me for the day. Thanks a lot. What kinda family are you?
4:12pm – Just finished composing a difficult email to a good friend. Hit “Send,” and wondered if I had said anything worthy. I rarely have enough words, the right words, in situations like these. I’m such a b.s. advice-giver. Geez. If nothing else, it gave Hijabman an idea for a new website. Good to know I’m at least useful for something. But I wanna know what the friend is thinking, is what.
4:14pm – B stops by with some Cadbury Creme eggs. Yay, chocolate! Now THIS is what I mean by entertainment, peoples. How come I’ve never had one of these before? Damn, I’ve been hella deprived.
4:21pm – Co-worker K stops by to shine the bright fluorescent light in my face. I brandish a self-adhesive fastener at him. “These are sharp for a reason, you know,” I say threateningly. He snaps the staple remover at me, then looks around and remarks, “This cubicle is kinda small.” “YEAH,” I retort, “It’s made for one person. That’s why you should leave already.”
4:30pm – K stops by again: “Time to move our cars. Let’s go.” “Noooo,” I moan, “I don’t wanna.” “Aw, come on,” he says. “Nooo,” I whine, “noooo.” “Oh, come on,” he wheedles. “FINE THEN,” I sigh, “Let’s go.” We walk out, and, at the first stoplight, K slips on a pair of sunglasses. “Are those pink lenses, or red?” I ask curiously. “Red,” he says, “Wanna see?” He hands them over, and I slip them on. “SLICK!” I shout. “Look, the clouds are red!” I hand him my camera to take a photo of me in the spiffy red sunglasses, and he almost gets run over on the street. I still don’t feel like moving my car, so I step into his little yellow Celica as he prepares to move it to a new parking spot, but only after he insists on cleaning off his passenger seat and hauling out all the stuff that occupies the leg-space in front of it. “DUDE,” I say, “I’m this short little girl. You swear like I’m not gonna fit in there anyway.” On the way back to the office, K almost gets run over by our race-car driver co-worker, M. He then proceeds to repeatedly ask me if the sunglasses look good on him. He also tells me they cost $80, at which point I stop dead in my tracks and shout, “EIGHTY DOLLARS?! I could buy four pairs of shoes with that!” “What?” he says, “I’ve bought $180 sunglasses before.” “Good lord,” I mutter.
4:43pm – Back at the office, K and I are attempting to alleviate boredom through AIM conversations –
crackfiendserene: so dude, where do they keep the white paper for the printer, huh huh huh?
crackfiendserene: hahahahaha just kidding
crackfiendserene: you know how that’s my favorite line for you
K: i know
K: im hella bored tho
crackfiendserene: yeah me too
crackfiendserene: let’s steal all the white printer paper
crackfiendserene: and run away forever
crackfiendserene: to go home
crackfiendserene: and eat cadbury creme chocolates all day
K: thats a good idea
K: we can make 200 bux out of it
crackfiendserene: the printer paper? who are you gonna sell it to?
K: um thats a good question
K: well we can think about it later
crackfiendserene: i think we should get ’em and sell ’em back to the office
crackfiendserene: it’d be like holding the paper for ransom
crackfiendserene: HOSTAGES!
K: yeah thats a good idea
crackfiendserene: i think so too
K: hey these stupid yellow folders are expensive too
crackfiendserene: forreals?
crackfiendserene: okay, that goes on our hit list too
K: no, the folders
crackfiendserene: actually, i meant *for reals
I love talking to fobby immigrant children.
K: well we should start from small projects and then go on with the big ones
K: what do u think
crackfiendserene: i think that’s a grand idea, smart child
crackfiendserene : that’s pure genius
K: yeah we need some practice
crackfiendserene: hell yeah you do
crackfiendserene: me, i’m a pro
crackfiendserene: even though i don’t know where the paper is
crackfiendserene: but that’s not really important
K: do u want to start from paper clips??????
crackfiendserene: you think you could calm down with those question marks, maybe?
crackfiendserene: why do you feel so many are necessary?
crackfiendserene: you’re killing me
K: oh yeah?
crackfiendserene: and paperclips are not that exciting, dude
crackfiendserene: how bout the staple removers?
crackfiendserene: those are essential
crackfiendserene: and lethal, too
K: so what else do u want?
crackfiendserene: and while we’re talking about lethal objects, might as well steal the boxes of fasteners, too
K: fo sho
K: u know what, im thinking about these computer monitors
crackfiendserene: HAHAHA
K: they are kind of fun too
crackfiendserene: YEAH!
K: ooooooo u know what
crackfiendserene: what?
K: that wind turbine by front door
crackfiendserene: oooooooh slick!
K: i really like it
K: its a cool one
crackfiendserene: yeah it is
crackfiendserene: hella spiffy
I can hear him laughing maniacally in his cubicle across the aisle, right now. Here he comes now, stepping across the hallway and trying to stifle his laughter but failing miserably. “Ohhhh, we should take this!” I look over, and he’s holding up my heavy-duty hole puncher. “Don’t forget the entire supply cabinet!” I add. “Post-its are important. You got friends with pick-up trucks?”
5:07pm – G unexpectedly stops by. “How are you, beta?” “I’m doing just fine,” I say, “How’s the new job going?” He glares. “No time to breathe up there.” “Ohh,” I laugh, “You mean you really have to WORK now?”
5:15pm – And I’m out! Have beautiful days, kids.
my boyfriend his name is josh and he is 16 years old. He sells drugs and he is dealing with the goverment. I really like him but he just won’t call me and he always calling my friend. I recently got involed with the police when it came to him because his friend had a bebe gun. I also been hearing that he said I was a hoe and a bitch from a friend who don’t want me and him to go wiht each other because she likes him. When I ask her to prove it by calling him it seem like she is telling the truth but he never say any thing she said out of his mouth. He also ask her when is she going to come see me. I do get mad but not to the point where I would cry. We had sex about 3x’s. I don’t know what to do should I leave him is he cheating on me do he like me this like that I wonder.
Thanks a lot,
Dassah