Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Il pleut dans ma tainte

I don't really have anything to say, so this is likely to get rambly, people. I apologize.

I have been experiencing what the French refer to as ennui. Who can say why? Not me. That's what makes it ennui and not just regular Americanized depression brought about by Big Macs and a literacy rate encroaching on Chad's. Is it the the let down after the uproarious celebrations that followed my historic blogger award last week? Perhaps. Is it the two e-mails sent in error at work yesterday, leading to gentle admonishment by my Boy Scout leader-esque supervisor? Likely. Is it the fact that I now spend most evenings alone without the slightest inclination to call friends other than Misters Fidditch and Stolichnya? Doubtful.

I'm not exactly subtle about these things. Yesterday, I arrive at work dressed entirely in grey and proceeded to sprawl out on the floor in star-fish position, counting the holes in the ceiling tile above me before crawling into my coat cubby for a well-deserved 9:15 nap. Further, when the fluorescent hell that is my overhead light burned out, I took this as a tangible metaphor for my life and affixed the following sign to the back of my cubicle for maintenance:


That is not a joke. As you can see by the sketchy black lines on the top and right side, this is a scan of a real sign hanging in my area. I like it dark like the little grey storm cloud that's taken up residence over my head and under my taint.

I'm presently inclined to invest in a waist coat and some Absinthe in the hope of becoming a good ol' timey lush. I'd stroll into the office at half past 11:00 in cut-off gloves and disheveled mutton chops, yelling "Harlot!" at my boss before taking my tantrum to the basement food court, where I would likely moon my Chinese lady friends who serve my daily java. This, however, loses its appeal in imagining, as my boozy melt downs would likely occur in front of Booster Juice and I simply have too much respect for the a├žai berry to let it come to that

On the up and up, Black Magic holla'ed a "Hey, boo." at me while passing in the hall today. Sexual harrassment, say some. The only thing allowing me to cling to sanity, say I.

2 comments:

soft nonsense said...

I spent the entirety of this post nodding my head, knowing the same feeling. Then, I read the tag for the post, and busted out laughing.

Tocalabocina said...

I once read a case study which showed evidence that indecency in the presence of even one acai berry can lead to inoperable tumors at the base of your spine. It was only a clinical trial - but still.