It's a pretty quiet work day. I take a late lunch, eating quietly at my desk while I discreetly peruse my personal email. I finish up my can of iced tea, and toss it into the trash can a couple of feet away from my desk. I close my personal email and open up my work inbox to read the latest message to come in. As I am reading, Greta comes by with a dustpan and broom. She stands to my right and waits for me to acknowledge her. I do the opposite and pretend she's not even there.
"Please," she says. "To dust." And she gestures for me to get up from my desk.
I look directly at her, mutter "Jesus Christ" under my breath, and roll my chair backwards to give her room.
Greta proceeds to "sweep" the carpeting around my desk. She spends a long time making sure each fleck of dust and each little crumb gets caught in the bristles of her broom so she can guide it safely into the dustpan. She does her job diligently, and aggressively, committed to making my area dirt-free. I start thinking to myself about how I should probably start appreciating Greta - after all, she does make my work environment a safer place to be. Dirt and crumbs lead to bacteria, disease, and sometimes Herpes. And I really don't want to get Herpes at work.
I smile to myself and think, "Wow, Greta really is amazing. She cares!" I decide to express my thanks - but just as I am about to say my thank-yous, Greta stops what she is doing. She turns around to look at me, and says, "Please - to move! To clean!" She gestures at me to move back even further from my desk.
All of my gratitude quickly flies out the window. Greta almost had me fooled. She almost had me second-guessing myself this whole time. I always thought that she was an evil cleaning lady, who makes it her mission to sabotage my work flow, my workspace, and my damn apples. Today I thought Greta might be different.
But, no, Greta is the evil cleaning lady I always thought she was.
I roll my chair backwards, allow her to smugly sweep up more of my granola mess, finish up, and walk away.
I roll my eyes, slide back towards my desk, and blog.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Fasting Frustrations: A Top 5 List
I walk into work today at around 8am, grab myself some coffee and a piece of fruit. I walk to my desk, settle down, eat my fruit, and drink my coffee. Then I get an email from a friend, "so how's your fast?"
Fast?? Oh, [insert expletive here]! I am a moron.
Because, you see, today is a fast day on the Jewish calendar - the 17th of Tammuz. And I usually try to observe all of the fasts throughout the year to the best of my fasting abilities.
Today, I just plain forgot.
I instant messaged my Jewish coworker today, A-Pizzle, to see if she remembered to fast. She didn't either, therefore, to make ourselves feel better, we came up with a list of excuses why it's okay for one to not fast. I will give full credit to Miss A-Pizzle, since she masterminded this whole meshuge list.
And here it is... the top 5 reasons why it's okay to forget to fast:
5) We are Jewish, haven't we suffered enough?
4) Because you won't have any awkward encounters with other Jewish coworkers in the kitchen, like on normal, non-fast days.
3) Because fasting doesn't give you any energy to mourn.
2) Because sometimes overeating is more painful than undereating.
1) Because we'd rather sing "Eat It" instead of "Beat It", in honor of Michael Jackson.
Will Mel and A-Pizzle continue their day eating and adding items to the list? Or will they start fasting from scratch? Stay tuned!
Fast?? Oh, [insert expletive here]! I am a moron.
Because, you see, today is a fast day on the Jewish calendar - the 17th of Tammuz. And I usually try to observe all of the fasts throughout the year to the best of my fasting abilities.
Today, I just plain forgot.
I instant messaged my Jewish coworker today, A-Pizzle, to see if she remembered to fast. She didn't either, therefore, to make ourselves feel better, we came up with a list of excuses why it's okay for one to not fast. I will give full credit to Miss A-Pizzle, since she masterminded this whole meshuge list.
And here it is... the top 5 reasons why it's okay to forget to fast:
5) We are Jewish, haven't we suffered enough?
4) Because you won't have any awkward encounters with other Jewish coworkers in the kitchen, like on normal, non-fast days.
3) Because fasting doesn't give you any energy to mourn.
2) Because sometimes overeating is more painful than undereating.
1) Because we'd rather sing "Eat It" instead of "Beat It", in honor of Michael Jackson.
Will Mel and A-Pizzle continue their day eating and adding items to the list? Or will they start fasting from scratch? Stay tuned!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Jekyll-Hyde Within
Everybody pretty much knows that I am more sleep-deprived now than I have ever been in my life. But there's this little part of me that kind of enjoys it... that little part of me is my "other side", my very own Jekyll/Hyde personality that only emerges when the bags under my eyes are larger than a Hilton sister's overnight travel luggage.
Last week, I didn't sleep a wink. Over the weekend, I barely managed to get 10 hours altogether. I went to bed late Friday night, couldn't sleep Saturday night, and procrastinated Sunday night. Monday night, I went to a concert and got home late... and that brought me to Tuesday.
Yesterday was an interesting day in the life of my other half, my very own Hyde, Myde as I like to call it.
Myde Scenario #1 (Tuesday, June 30th):
I'm at my desk at work, it's about 11am. I get a phonecall from a client about designing something for him, and he literally repeats himself 10 times. I tell him "I know, I know, I understand", yet he keeps saying the same thing in different ways, in his very nasal-y, anal-retentive-y voice. I start snickering on the phone as he's repeating himself yet again. I move the receiver away from my mouth so he doesn't hear my laughter. I stop laughing and re-enter the conversation. He's still going over his ideas again. Finally, he gets sick enough of his own voice and decides to end the conversation. We hang up and I start cracking up to the point of tears. I go over to my boss to tell her what happened and we both start cracking up. Apparently, it was funny even though I thought I was only laughing because I was sleepy.
Myde Scenario 2 (Tuesday, June 30th):
I get up from my desk to go to the ladies room, walk inside the last stall, and realize that I have something stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I bend down to unstick it, and as I stand back up, I bang my head on the toilet seat cover dispenser that hangs on the stall door. I start giggling, and then laughing out loud at my klutziness.
Would this all have happened if I wasn't so tired? Probably.
But everything is funnier when you go through life half-asleep, half-awake.
You should try Myde-ing it sometime.
Last week, I didn't sleep a wink. Over the weekend, I barely managed to get 10 hours altogether. I went to bed late Friday night, couldn't sleep Saturday night, and procrastinated Sunday night. Monday night, I went to a concert and got home late... and that brought me to Tuesday.
Yesterday was an interesting day in the life of my other half, my very own Hyde, Myde as I like to call it.
Myde Scenario #1 (Tuesday, June 30th):
I'm at my desk at work, it's about 11am. I get a phonecall from a client about designing something for him, and he literally repeats himself 10 times. I tell him "I know, I know, I understand", yet he keeps saying the same thing in different ways, in his very nasal-y, anal-retentive-y voice. I start snickering on the phone as he's repeating himself yet again. I move the receiver away from my mouth so he doesn't hear my laughter. I stop laughing and re-enter the conversation. He's still going over his ideas again. Finally, he gets sick enough of his own voice and decides to end the conversation. We hang up and I start cracking up to the point of tears. I go over to my boss to tell her what happened and we both start cracking up. Apparently, it was funny even though I thought I was only laughing because I was sleepy.
Myde Scenario 2 (Tuesday, June 30th):
I get up from my desk to go to the ladies room, walk inside the last stall, and realize that I have something stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I bend down to unstick it, and as I stand back up, I bang my head on the toilet seat cover dispenser that hangs on the stall door. I start giggling, and then laughing out loud at my klutziness.
Would this all have happened if I wasn't so tired? Probably.
But everything is funnier when you go through life half-asleep, half-awake.
You should try Myde-ing it sometime.
Monday, June 29, 2009
My Stupid Mouth
My doorman, Umar, is the nicest guy. He's a little older than me, from Nigeria, and always has the hugest smile on his face. He's the only one of our guards that I ever talk to.
"Hi, Malanie," he says, as I walk in the door on Saturday afternoon.
"Hey, Umar," I say, "what's up?"
"Nothing. Nice day," he says.
"Yeah," I say.
I approach his desk and notice that he's reading a thick, hard-covered, dark blue book that's missing its jacket.
"Hey Umar, what are you reading? The dictionary?" I ask, then laugh aloud at my own joke.
Omar looks perplexed. "Ackshilly, Malanie, yes. Yes I am. I read it so I can read the English newspaper," Umar says matter-of-factly, as he lifts up his dictionary to point out what's spread open beneath it: the newspaper.
Aggggh! Shit, I am such an asshole!, I shout inside my own head.
"Oh really?" I ask, attempting to save myself from yet another unfiltered remark, "I was just kidding, I didn't really think you'd be reading the dictionary!"
"Heh. Heh. Heh." A nervous giggle escapes my mouth. Umar joins in, and grins widely. I take that as a sign that he doesn't hate me. Phew!
"Have a good one," I say, as I walk away and head for the elevators.
I look at the ground, and shake my head back and forth. My stupid mouth almost gets me in trouble once again.
"Hi, Malanie," he says, as I walk in the door on Saturday afternoon.
"Hey, Umar," I say, "what's up?"
"Nothing. Nice day," he says.
"Yeah," I say.
I approach his desk and notice that he's reading a thick, hard-covered, dark blue book that's missing its jacket.
"Hey Umar, what are you reading? The dictionary?" I ask, then laugh aloud at my own joke.
Omar looks perplexed. "Ackshilly, Malanie, yes. Yes I am. I read it so I can read the English newspaper," Umar says matter-of-factly, as he lifts up his dictionary to point out what's spread open beneath it: the newspaper.
Aggggh! Shit, I am such an asshole!, I shout inside my own head.
"Oh really?" I ask, attempting to save myself from yet another unfiltered remark, "I was just kidding, I didn't really think you'd be reading the dictionary!"
"Heh. Heh. Heh." A nervous giggle escapes my mouth. Umar joins in, and grins widely. I take that as a sign that he doesn't hate me. Phew!
"Have a good one," I say, as I walk away and head for the elevators.
I look at the ground, and shake my head back and forth. My stupid mouth almost gets me in trouble once again.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
"Oprah's sampled every biscuit in Boston."
Sometimes I forget to breathe. No joke. Like I'll be concentrating so hard on something that I don't realize I'd been holding my breath the entire time.
Sometimes I talk aloud and don't realize it. I know, hard to believe for a sane girl like me. When I realize I have been talking out loud, I just pretend I'd been singing to myself, and people usually buy it. What? That's not weird.
Sometimes I wake up with the strangest thoughts in my head. Monday's thought? "Oprah's sampled every biscuit in Boston." Really, Mel??? Really?!?! Where did that even come from?
Sometimes I pretend that walking around NYC during rush hour is an obstacle course, and I find myself dashing and darting around people. Then I realize that I am a total shmuck and I need to calm the fuck down.
Sometimes, in real life, I pretend I am in one of my improv classes. This tends to piss people off. I was having an argument with my sister the other night, about nothing just because I was enjoying the banter. Then I realized that she was getting really pissed off (and spoiling my fun).
Sometimes I think about random things, try to remember to tell people about them, and then never do. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is... thanks for humoring me as I make my poor and subtle attempts to humor you.
Until next time, kids.
Sometimes I talk aloud and don't realize it. I know, hard to believe for a sane girl like me. When I realize I have been talking out loud, I just pretend I'd been singing to myself, and people usually buy it. What? That's not weird.
Sometimes I wake up with the strangest thoughts in my head. Monday's thought? "Oprah's sampled every biscuit in Boston." Really, Mel??? Really?!?! Where did that even come from?
Sometimes I pretend that walking around NYC during rush hour is an obstacle course, and I find myself dashing and darting around people. Then I realize that I am a total shmuck and I need to calm the fuck down.
Sometimes, in real life, I pretend I am in one of my improv classes. This tends to piss people off. I was having an argument with my sister the other night, about nothing just because I was enjoying the banter. Then I realized that she was getting really pissed off (and spoiling my fun).
Sometimes I think about random things, try to remember to tell people about them, and then never do. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is... thanks for humoring me as I make my poor and subtle attempts to humor you.
Until next time, kids.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I Do Not Wish I Could Quit You
Are these things random? Or is the universe trying to tell me something?
Because I really do have a sweet spot in my heart for Italy - the language, the culture, the food... is this the universe's way of telling me that it's time to let go? But I can't!! I love Italy!
Or is this mere coincidence? I can't seem to figure it out!
WTF?!
Because I really do have a sweet spot in my heart for Italy - the language, the culture, the food... is this the universe's way of telling me that it's time to let go? But I can't!! I love Italy!
Or is this mere coincidence? I can't seem to figure it out!
WTF?!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
'I Love Jesus' Meets 'Young Mother'
It's approximately 7:37am. You're seated near the back of an eastbound M96 bus. An older woman is standing next to you. You don't make eye contact with her, but you notice that she is carrying a very large tote bag. The bag keeps digging into you but you keep your mouth shut. It's only a 5 minute ride, only a 5 minute ride..., you think to yourself.
You look up at the woman and begin to study her. You notice her mismatched clothing, nappy hair, and orange baseball cap. It reads: "I Love Jesus"
Hah, you think to yourself, she seems like quite the character. (Little did you know that would be some improvisational foreshadowing.)
You notice that the volume on your iPod seems to be a little low, and that there's some background noise that's beginning to be a nuisance. As you reach for the volume control on your iPod, you notice "I Love Jesus" lady brawling with another passenger. Like most New Yorkers, you mute your iPod and pretend to still be listening.
"You're squashing my child!", the Young Mother exclaims.
"No I ain't!", shouts "I Love Jesus".
"Yes you are!! You got pushed, but then you pushed directly onto my child! Why would you do that! You squashed my child!", yells the young mother.
"No I didn't. You stupid!", shouts "I Love Jesus". The whole bus is listening at this point.
"Excuse me, you squashed my child," the Young Mother says cooly.
"You stupid. You stupid. YOU STUPID. You stupid, you know 'dat? You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts the crazy "I Love Jesus" lady.
At this point, the Young Mother tells her daughter to stand up and move a few rows ahead, far away from "I Love Jesus". Young Mother looks back at "I Love Jesus".
She is fired up.
"You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts "I Love Jesus".
Finally, the bus stops and the doors open. "I Love Jesus" exits, all the while muttering to herself, "You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!"
Your opinion on the whole scenario?
Poor Jesus. He's being so poorly represented by this crazy old bat. He probably wishes that she'd never purchased that silly hat. It's so not his style anyway.
You look up at the woman and begin to study her. You notice her mismatched clothing, nappy hair, and orange baseball cap. It reads: "I Love Jesus"
Hah, you think to yourself, she seems like quite the character. (Little did you know that would be some improvisational foreshadowing.)
You notice that the volume on your iPod seems to be a little low, and that there's some background noise that's beginning to be a nuisance. As you reach for the volume control on your iPod, you notice "I Love Jesus" lady brawling with another passenger. Like most New Yorkers, you mute your iPod and pretend to still be listening.
"You're squashing my child!", the Young Mother exclaims.
"No I ain't!", shouts "I Love Jesus".
"Yes you are!! You got pushed, but then you pushed directly onto my child! Why would you do that! You squashed my child!", yells the young mother.
"No I didn't. You stupid!", shouts "I Love Jesus". The whole bus is listening at this point.
"Excuse me, you squashed my child," the Young Mother says cooly.
"You stupid. You stupid. YOU STUPID. You stupid, you know 'dat? You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts the crazy "I Love Jesus" lady.
At this point, the Young Mother tells her daughter to stand up and move a few rows ahead, far away from "I Love Jesus". Young Mother looks back at "I Love Jesus".
She is fired up.
"You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!!", shouts "I Love Jesus".
Finally, the bus stops and the doors open. "I Love Jesus" exits, all the while muttering to herself, "You stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!"
Your opinion on the whole scenario?
Poor Jesus. He's being so poorly represented by this crazy old bat. He probably wishes that she'd never purchased that silly hat. It's so not his style anyway.
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