On Tupperware and Knitting Needles
As a result of my ever-expanding belly (nearly 20 pounds gained since meeting Randy – that bastard) I’ve ceased taking the elevator and climb the stairs 5 flights to my office every day. And with meetings on other floors and going to the cafeteria (or nearby restaurants) for lunch each day, I go up and down at least three times (and this doesn’t include subterranean climbs into subways stations). Despite all that, after 3 motnhs I’m still gaining weight.
But this is all beside the point. Wait – what was the point?
Oh yeah, coming back from the cafeteria yesterday I reached the 5th floor stair-landing (and my office is in a fairly deserted wing of the building so NOBODY uses those stairs) and I discovered a middle-aged man with scraggly hair and a long beard sitting on the window ledge with an open tupperware container with left-over food. And he was knitting something turqouise.
At least this is better than a few years ago when I went into the copy room in my previous building (also on the 5th floor, coincidentally) and made some copies first thing in the morning. Being the energy-concious fellow that I am, I didn’t turn the lights on – I just made copies by the light provided by the open door and single emergency lighting fixture that remained on permanently. After returning to my office, a co-worker ran into my office an hour or so later and asked if I’d noticed a body behind the copy machine.
Um, no – I did not.
I followed him back into the copy room and lo-and-behold, there was a man sleeping behind the copier. At least he wasn’t dead. I apparently didn’t notice his legs sticking out because I didn’t turn on the lights. And he must have been really tired (or hung-over) since he didn’t notice the copy machine running next to him (or me humming, since I apparently hum non-stop).
Oh, and before I forget, I want to thank everybody for your emails this week asking when I’m going to blog next. Now if only you’d put those requests on the blog so it actually looks like I have readers! I actually have no reason for not blogging aside from laziness. And I’ve been pre-occupied with other things (work related and vacation planning related).
But don’t you worry, I’ll take my blogging Metamucil next week and be much more regular.
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Where the hell have you been? I have been worried sick!!!! Good thing with the Metamucil…it will help your blogging and if you take enough your weight gain…LOL.
You needed to a gain a bit of weight, poodle. You were looking a might too thin for a bit.
Yay that you’ve returned! May the blogging gods of regularity smile on you!
KC glad you’re back. I enjoy reading you blog every day.. I was lost without it.
Or, and I don’t mean to be really scary, you could be arriving at that time in life when your metabolism begins to slow a little and is no longer cooperative about tossing off the carbs and cocktails. I have been there and survival requires a certain self-discipline.
Ewww….a body behind the copier? lol Just thought I’d post and let you know that I’m one of your readers that hopes you continue to blog regularly! Thanks!
The body-behind-the-copier reminds me of a VERY scary moment I had as a sophomore in highschool (boarding school) – it was 6:30 AM or so, and there was no soap left in the (gang…ah, the fantasies which still remain…but I digress) showers, so I had to pad out to the big main janitor’s closet in the dorm, in my towel, to get some. The soap was this nasty cut-rate Ivory knockoff I’ve never seen since: it had “White Floating” stamped on it… Well, anyway, the main janitor on that floor was this wizened little old guy who had been, most unkindly, as it was meant inversely, nicknamed “Flash” by the students…he looked and moved a bit like an unshelled turtle. Well, the closet in question was more of a little L-shaped room – big enough for lots of big deep shelves full of supplies, a big slop sink, and to store the fairly big janitor’s cart. There was also a classroom chair in the back corner at the distant top of the ‘L’, and the thing had a big solid door. Well, I went in and got a few bars of soap from the pile to the right by the light of the opened corridor door, and turned to go back out, pushing the door, which had closed a bit, somewhat wider open, lighting the top of the ‘L’ and the chair. And there was Flash, sitting bolt upright, silent, in the dark, catatonic but open-eyed (behind thick glasses) on the chair. I think I yelped and jumped about two feet, but he remained out of it/didn’t so much as blink. I fled quickly, but later that day, he was out and about on his usual rounds…zombie? android? You decide…. Scared the wits outta me – I didn’t go back into THAT particular closet (no comment) again…