It's been two years

No, today is not my birthday, but it is sometime in the neighborhood of now, and as I was sifting through my email inbox, I found a note from two years ago that brought me a lot of joy. May all your birthday's be as good as this one.

R-
Thanks so much for the stuff on my doorstep. I didn't have much time to look at it, but i am sure it is wonderful and very profound. and don't worry about breakfast: J made me lemon bars for breakfast last night. She didn't think that ice cream cake was an appropriate breakfast. By the way, if you want some ice cream cake, feel free to stop on by.
I have to go and dance around my office because, hey, it's my birthday. No Karaoke today, though. we can't have it all.
have a good day!
-E

That's right, at that time I had a job that allowed me to dance and do karaoke whenever I wanted, and a roommate who made me lemon bars. That was a good year. and I learned the secret of true love.

When Things are officially strange

With Earnesto out for the rest of the week, I was at liberty to waste time with the maximum efficiency today. I did so well I didn't have time to write at work. But prior to playing games, taking quizzes, and leaving a word for Henry, I took the time to review my resumé and update it. I felt pretty satisfied with my changes. But when I in passing mentioned my actions to my supervisor Marie, she had some strong feelings. As in editorial changes to improve my chances in getting hired somewhere away from this crazy-house.

And that's jut it. You know things are odd when your supervisor is editing your c.v. You know things are strange when she encourages you to go on vacation and work from home. You know things are off when you spend 30 minutes discussing humus.

But on the upside, I think my resumé is rocking. And I have time to play Yahtzee.

Go away for the weekend, and look what happens!

Someone stole it! The label maker, I mean. What horrible person would abscond with the item that brings me and others so much joy? I mean, it's cruel and unusual to deprive people of the happiness brought on by the words we hide. And If you think I'm taking it badly, you should see how Henry's doing. Not good. Not good at all. We may have to call in a professional.

And in other news, my commuting pal, Eitan has left his job, and I will never see his smiling sleepy face again in the morning. Unlike many others mentioned in this blog, Eitan is his real name, and he's a very nice fellow I have known for a year, although I have only ever spoken to him in the last 4 months or so, since we had a brief foray into carpooling. He is a really great guy, very funny, very low-key and mellow. I will miss him in a vague way. Best wishes to you Eitan, along with your girlfriend, in your new place and job. May you find that committed carpool you have been looking for.

Update: Take down the police tape, Lassie came home
I should know better than to listen to Henry, I guess, because no one stole the label maker. They were actually labeling things. I went to check on it and it had been returned, but had no word. I put in an appropriate word, to avoid further trauma for Henry. Poor kid.

Let's label this: flirtation

When I'm not busy scheduling, or doing my work, or writing this, I do a little something that brightens my day. It's almost inexplicable how much I enjoy this activity. It is communal flirtation.

Please allow me to explain a little further. Our Accounts Payable is kept in a room slightly larger than a broom closet, but smaller than the executive office, with four of them in there. They are nice people, three girls and a boy who I have determined is crazy (Renaldo). But it is a place of community, you can almost always find a visitor or 6 in there disputing accounts, providing receipts etc. And they have this game they started, which is a really stupid game, when you think about it.

This game is primarily consistent of typing secret words into their label maker, and leaving them for the other people playing. I love it. I love words, they are little gems to play with. The other thing I love about the game is that it allows me to flirt with a specific person, Henry, a very lovely fellow from another department, without actually being held to that flirting. It gives us foundation for some very lively banter, and our face to face interactions have prospered. However, since the basis for the flirtation is done in proxy through the label maker, and is read by more than just Henry and myself, we are not committed to it in the eyes of our peers.

So Henry and I exchange our words and play a game that other people can play too. It's thrilling. I'm sure part of the thrill is that Henry used to date one of my favorite coworkers, so is forbidden fruit. I know the other women who play the game see it as a way to flirt with Henry, but since Henry and I are the wordsmiths now (we hijacked the experience about three weeks ago), they are at most periphery.

I love this, flirtation with plausible deniability, otherwise know henceforth as communal flirtation. See below, the tool for our delicate relationship.