Date: 2008-11-02 11:52:02 Created: null
The first day after a holiday can be an odd beast. Things felt quite normal all the way to lunch (in part, perhaps, because I spent some percentage of that time wholly unaccompanied).
But then, on this fateful Tuesday, I headed to the kitchen to warm my humble lunchbox.
When I got back my boss had abducted my chair, selling it to suspicious Russian outfits which was already moving it out of the country. Or so I assumed. Thus robbed of rightful seating I spent my lunch as an outcast, dining quietly on a dark and damp corner (it might have looked like a comfortable couch in a warm anad sunlit room, but I assure you, it virtually radiated damp darkness).
And there it might have ended, in a perfect world. Strengthened and nourished, I took back what was rightly mine and attempted to sit down for a focused afternoon.
Little did I achieve, however, before I was disturbed by a German gentleman with the most dubious of intentions. Having been inquired as to whether I happened to be in possesion of a large potato I asked with all the patience and politeness I could muster if he might perhaps consider seating himself just a little farther away. While I got my wish, it is perhaps unnecessary to state that all semblances of focus and balance had been irrevocably lost.
After all this I left work and ran for three miles.
is a fight
in this kind of town.