Friday, August 12, 2005
OK, I admit it. I'm here on a dare, of sorts.
The mere fact that I'm writing this for billions of soon-to-be fans is a testament to my total devotion to exercises in self-delusionary tactics. Not only did I trick myself into thinking that my career choice would be fulfilling, but also that moving for said career would offer relief from the ordinary, yet truly pleasant life I lived down south for 13 years. But more on this later.
In any case, I was at lunch with colleagues this afternoon (yes, I have a job where I can call them colleagues without being laughed out of my cube) and was struck by a horrible realization. This was no run-of-the-mill offense that I had just committed. In terms of lunchroom etiquette, I had just done the equivalent of whizzing in the office coffee pot: while shoving in a forkful of salad into my gaping maw, my tongue broke the plane of my lips.
I've got goosepimples just thinking about it.
It took me a while to decide whether or not I had the cojones to admit this in blog form, but I thought it served the purpose both in entertainment value (for you) and the sort of ok,-i-just-admitted-it-and-that's-the-first-step-to-recovery therapeutic value (for yours truly). It's one of those things that, in it's entirety, may not seem to be that serious a misdeed. In truth, it was only horrible after I realized that, in the midst of the conversation, everyone was looking at me as a result of a disparaging comment which was jokingly directed my way. I paused, fork in hand and tongue out of mouth, and looked up. Damage done.
And they said Fridays were supposed to be good.
The mere fact that I'm writing this for billions of soon-to-be fans is a testament to my total devotion to exercises in self-delusionary tactics. Not only did I trick myself into thinking that my career choice would be fulfilling, but also that moving for said career would offer relief from the ordinary, yet truly pleasant life I lived down south for 13 years. But more on this later.
In any case, I was at lunch with colleagues this afternoon (yes, I have a job where I can call them colleagues without being laughed out of my cube) and was struck by a horrible realization. This was no run-of-the-mill offense that I had just committed. In terms of lunchroom etiquette, I had just done the equivalent of whizzing in the office coffee pot: while shoving in a forkful of salad into my gaping maw, my tongue broke the plane of my lips.
I've got goosepimples just thinking about it.
It took me a while to decide whether or not I had the cojones to admit this in blog form, but I thought it served the purpose both in entertainment value (for you) and the sort of ok,-i-just-admitted-it-and-that's-the-first-step-to-recovery therapeutic value (for yours truly). It's one of those things that, in it's entirety, may not seem to be that serious a misdeed. In truth, it was only horrible after I realized that, in the midst of the conversation, everyone was looking at me as a result of a disparaging comment which was jokingly directed my way. I paused, fork in hand and tongue out of mouth, and looked up. Damage done.
And they said Fridays were supposed to be good.
# posted by VonDeferen @ 9:05 AM 
