It's been one of those kind of days. Everything is due right away, and if it isn't, it's past due. And if it isn't past due, it's been escalated, and then that means that it's due right away. I've been glued to my seat all day, and when I finally decided to take a break for lunch, it was almost 4 PM!
Earlier this morning I broke my "No Carb, Low Carb" vow when I went to the slot machines this morning, bet on some Pop Tarts and won. But by 3:30 PM, I was feeling kind of raggedy, and decided to heat up the plate of Sunday dinner leftovers that I packed for lunch today. My dear, dear co-worker (who we'll call Egbert) put my food (and his, since I brought him a plate, too) in the fridge saving me a trip to the kitchen this morning.
When I went to the kitchen to get my food out of the fridge, Egbert was perched in front of the microwave, eagerly watching his food like he was watching the Tyson-Williams fight on Pay-Per-View. I opened the fridge and searched amid the sea of plastic grocery bags for my plate, and didn't see it. I then checked the other fridge right next to it (yes, we have two refrigerators in the kitchen) and didn't find it there either. I asked Egbert where he had put my plate, and you know what he said? "Oh, I put it in the fridge in the other kitchen." The other kitchen? At the other end of the building? (In case I've lost you, we not only have two refrigerators in one kitchen, we have two kitchens in one building.)
Oh well, so I figured that I deserved a soda for that. (Anyone who knows me knows that I don't drink soda all that often, maybe once in a blue moon.) I stopped by the slot machine, bet on a soda, and lost. The machine was empty. So I trudged on to the other kitchen at the other end of the building, the distance between the two kitchens being about twenty-five city blocks. I got to the other kitchen, and found the microwave there unplugged and pushed up against the wall. Darn it!
I decided to go to the other slot machine on the lower level, get a soda, come back to Kitchen #1, get my food, walk all the way to the other end of the building to Kitchen #2, heat my food up and then come back to my desk to eat. I had no other choice.
Twenty minutes later, I finally got back to my desk with my plate of food, and you know what? It wasn't even hot. Not hardly. I was so tired, I thought that maybe I stuck my food back in the fridge thinking it was the microwave. But no, I put it in a little box, pushed a button and it lit up and started spinning around. So that was the microwave, albeit broken. I guess that microwave will soon be unplugged and pushed up against the wall, too. I probably should have tried heating my food again, but I didn't want to go through all of that drama. I just ate it cold.
I'm going home now.
Monday has been postponed until further notice.