Life is like a dogsled team. If you ain't the lead dog, the scenery never changes.
-- Lewis Grizzard

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Don't Kiss the Giraffe

Okay, so originally, I sent this e-mail to friend "Sandy" from work, who in my address book is listed one name below my boss, who happens to be the 'Big Cheese' and 'head honcho' of my division ……   Keep this little tidbit of info in mind after reading the following snippet of what I am referring to as “Don’t kiss the giraffe”.........

I awoke this morning, an annoying 5 minutes before the alarm clock went off to the strange, cold and somewhat awkward feelings of a wet nose sniffing and a big tongue licking my right armpit.  (Recently, for some unknown reason, my dog has become totally infatuated with the smell and taste of my deodorant).  After being accosted in such a way, I get out of bed and head off to the promise of caffeine.  In the short trip from the bedroom to the kitchen I managed to fall over the cat, stub my toe on my son’s door frame, trip on the belt of my robe, and lodge a small LEGO between my third and fourth toes.  Making it to the relative safety of my kitchen, I find I just can’t wait until the entire pot of coffee is brewed for my first taste of liquid energy and so I decide I am going to defy the law of gravity and the laws of physics and somehow pull the coffee pot out, pour a mug-full and replace the pot before the next drip.  In the process of cheating physics I burn my hand, drop my coffee cup and find myself standing in a puddle of hazelnut coffee and ceramic nuggets that previously made up my favorite Minnie Mouse mug.  (It’s at this point I begin to think today might not be a great day.) {Lesson number one of this sad, sad story---coffee pots will always win in a head-to-head competition}
After cleaning up the sad remains of a once treasured Disney World gift shop favorite, I mopped up the mess, 'pine-sol'ed the sticky places and forged on. {Lesson number two---Pine-Sol and hazelnut coffee, when mixed smell like horrible!!}  So, with stainless steel travel coffee mug in hand, I gather my thoughts and begin choosing my outfit for the day.  “Hmmm… I feel sassy, serious, gypsy-ish, or casual?”  I decide to go middle of the road with a pair of gray pants and a sweater.  Simple, easy, no fuss-just… what this day called for.  That decision made, I move on to the bathroom for my shower.  While showering I notice there is a mis-guided stream of water spraying almost directly into my left eye caused by an over-sized shampoo bottle in the over-the-shower-head organizer blocking the water’s path. {Lesson number three---while economical, jumbo-sized bottles of shampoo don’t fit properly in the standard shower organizer} In my efforts to remedy the situation I move the giant bottle to a shelf in the opposite corner of the shower, thus upsetting the fine balance of weight distribution of various body washes, shaving creams and conditioners remaining in the over-the-shower-head organizer.  This small and mundane action then set off a chain of embarrassing events that are still being felt at this very moment. The very second I returned to the now un-impeded spray of warm water, the over-the-shower-head organizer slips off its plastic suction cups, juts out from the wall, slides down the shower head spout, and spews it’s assortment of various showering and toiletry items simultaneously landing on my head and foot in a barrage of pain.  I am now doubled over rubbing my sore head and hopping around on one foot, trying to massage my other throbbing foot.   My good “hopping” foot lands on a very moisturizing, yet festive bar of striped peppermint scented soap, sending me into a series of frenzied, amateur-ish skating/dancing/falling movements. {Lesson number four---I keep way too many things in my shower organizer} It is at this point, laying in the bathroom floor wrapped up in the shower curtain—pole still attached, wet and shivering hoping my foot, head and now buttocks aren’t sprained or broken, I realize........ it is, without a doubt going to be one of "those days".

I manage to drag my bruised and battered body through the rest of my morning routine and prepare to leave for work.  I give myself one last glance in the mirror, grab my purse and bag and out the door I go………One step down and off I went…….on a strangely familiar set of frenzied skating/dancing/trying not to fall (again) movements.  Down I went, onto my already sore and bruised rump. {Lesson number five---although stylish, heels are not the wisest choice in footwear when it is snowing and icy outside}  I manage to get to my feet only to realize I have torn my gray pants (those middle of the road, simple, easy and no-fuss ones) right down the seam of my butt.  As I calmly tip-toe/limp/hobble backwards towards the house, in an attempt to hide my neon green and orange checkered undies from my old man neighbor retrieving his paper, I realize I should have just stayed in bed.  {Lesson number six---always make sure your undies match your outfit, you never know when someone will see them}

I emerge from the house five minutes later dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, a zip-up fleece and tennis shoes.

Fast forward to 11:35am....  I'm at work, surfing through animal photos trying to ignore my growling stomach,  just not yet desperate enough to use the communal microwave that just nuked something stinky enough to fill the entire 6th floor with a  nasty clams/garlic/licorice combo odor,  and I find this picture of a cute giraffe going in for a big smooch ......

  and laugh hysterically.  I attach it to an e-mail to "Martha" and send it to "Sandy" as well, thinking I would be clever and make them both laugh.  However, while I was in the midst of hitting the “send” button, the weather alert alarm goes off in our building, causing me to look away for one moment.  (Here’s where the problem and that little tidbit of info I asked you to remember comes in handy……….) I didn’t realize anything out of the norm had happened until I received one of those “message read” receipts sent from my boss.

It was then that I asked myself..…do I laugh, cry or begin packing up my office??

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