May 27th

I received chastising on Friday for not tucking in my shirt. This was much to the chagrin of my “fly by night ego” and the event, in part, kept me from labeling Friday as my best day here so far. Bagels, a diminishing sickness, and casual dress day all combined to pique my perceived significance and whet my sense of self-worth. When I was called out for looking homeless, I vowed to myself that every “Casual Friday” from now on will find me in the customary dress of the elite; a suit and tie. Come to think of it, I might have actually looked like I drank my dinner from a wine bottle and made my knightly castle in an alleyway behind Applebee’s – I was pale and emaciated from my battle with a supervirus, hadn’t shaved all week, and had a look in my eyes that said “I need food. You spare coin for me?”

Greg wanted to go the gym before work this morning, so we agreed to get up at 5:40 and subsequently roll out in fox-like fashion. I was up, I was about, and G took his semi-sweet little time rousting. We worked out for only 20 minutes, sleeked up, and padded off to our day jobs.

M&M emergency (10:50 – 11:15 A.M.)

With a plate full of remedial tasks, a stomach full of air, and a head full of dreams, I snuck off to the M&M machine. Earlier in the morning, I had a discovered a worn dollar bill in my workout shorts, an odd occurrence indeed. This cashless society, of which I am a part, places little importance on paper money and even less on its bastard children, coin. I wanted to rid myself of the bothersome bill through the purchase of one pack of Peanut M&Ms. The machine gladly sucked up the bill, dropped me 15 cents change, and started gifting me my snack. A literal hang-up, though.

The machine, seeing my greedy smile and extrapolating my intent for the bag of chocolate nuts, decided to withhold my goods. I banged, begged, brayed, and balked, but to no avail. I pandered to Greg for spare change, but none was provided. An Indian woman was whispering sweet nothings to someone on her cell phone, so I couldn’t come right out and kick the machine like I wanted to. I finally decided to love and let live, returning to my cubby. I scraped up 61 cents from my backpack, and borrowed 20 cents, netting myself two bags of candy. My taste buds tell me it was well worth the effort.

The computer decided not to recognize an important constraint name, effectively leaving me in the laundry room with no clothes on. My office mates made some phone calls to tech people, and the error was erased. Problem is, I now have to start over on something I finished this morning at 10, and it is 2 o’clock. I am strangely and slowly evolving into those around me; it takes me an entire day to do a two-hour task…

I miss the good ol’ days, when my brain cells weren’t intellectually bankrupt and in danger of insubordination. Only impolite dendrites need apply.