Today’s lunch left me feeling a bit less than satiated, so I thought I’d mosey on over to the break room for a snack. I checked my wallet for one-dollar bills, locked my computer (so no one uses it while I’m away), and headed out.

The break room that is closest to my desk is actually across the building, and of course there isn’t a direct way of walking there. I’ve got to leave my cube, walk to the end of the hallway, turn right, then turn left after about 10 steps, then turn left again after another 8-10 steps, go to the end of that hallway, turn right, turn left after about 15 steps, walk another 30 steps, and then I’m there. It’s not quite cross-country, but I’m pretty sure that it’s darn close. Because of this distance, I’m confident that I get enough exercise in the round trip to justify the candy intake.

So I made it safely to the break room, avoiding such things as broken legs, sick oxen, and typhoid fever, and walked up to the snack machine. At first glance, nothing looked very appetizing. I’m not much of a snack person, not salty nor sweet, so I looked through each row until I got to E8.

That’s when I saw the M&M’s.

They called to me, begging me to allow them to provide the sugar and sweetness that their counterparts have provided for decades. I couldn’t bear to let them down, so I decided that a bag of M&M’s would do the trick.

I reached into my pocket, retrieved my wallet, and pulled out a nice, crisp one-dollar bill. I checked the corners to make sure they weren’t folded, which would merely delay my access to my snack. I lifted the money to the receptacle, placed one end in, and watched as it was accepted without fanfare. I then extended my forefinger and pressed “E” and “8″. The motor began to whir, and the feeder begun to turn. My M&M’s were about to become mine!

Then it happened. The feeder, a corkscrew-like contraption, stopped spinning before my bag of M&M’s were freed. There they sat, taunting me as I stared in horror.

I looked for witnesses, then placed both hands along the top of the machine. I gave it two or three good firm pushes, allowing it to rock forward with each one. Nothing happened. My M&M’s were not budging.

I sighed desperately. I knew that M&M’s weren’t going to be the most healthy snack possible, but they had surely become desirable since I had decided to get them. I gazed upwards from my stalwart M&M’s and noticed that Rold Gold pretzels were located directly above E8. I became excited with the thought that I might be able to buy a somewhat healthier snack, which could then drop directly down and knock my M&M’s free! If this would only work, I would redeem myself by having a somewhat healthy snack now and saving my M&M’s for a treat after I next visit the gym. It would be perfect.

I then reach again into my back pocket to get my wallet, locate another pristine one-dollar bill, and feed the money into the machine. I wait for a moment to ensure that the bill is accepted, and then press “B” “4″. I watched as the motor whirred and the feeder turned. I held my breath as the bag of pretzels begins to fall. But wait! It missed the M&M’s completely. It didn’t even brush against them! How was I EVER going to get my M&M’s?

I’m not typically the type of person that gives up this easily, so I looked into my wallet to see if I had any more singles. I did, so I pulled it out, un-crumpled the corners, and fed it to the ever-greedy machine. I began looking up and down the column to see what else might work as a bomb to release my treat. Sadly, the only other item that was slightly interesting was a Butterfinger bar, and even though I’m not much of a fan, I knew that I wasn’t going to get my M&M’s without the aid of Bart Simpson’s favorite candy bar. I pressed “D” “8″ and turned away. I couldn’t bear to watch. I heard the “thunk” of the candy bar hitting the bottom of the basin. I waited another moment or two, hoping that maybe, just maybe, my M&M’s also fell down.

I looked. My head dropped. Still, the M&M’s remained above, now hanging precariously from their hopper. I then remembered the “shake the machine” method, and so I planted my feet, placed my hands again at the top of the evil box of snacks, and shook. I shook it once. I shook it twice. I shook it a third time. Nothing. I shook it again. Nothing. I wanted to cry.

I stepped back, hands dropping helplessly to my sides. I tried to think of other options. I could walk upstairs and talk to the lady that is responsible for the machines (she’s actually just the liaison between our company and the vendor) to get a refund, but then I’d be left to snack on pretzels and a Butterfinger, neither of which really sounded very tasty. I could just cut my losses, not get a refund, and just not have a snack. I didn’t have any more one-dollar bills, so I couldn’t try another bomb attack without returning to my desk with 4 snacks and a pocket filled with $19.25 in quarters.

Then it hit me: I had bought enough items at prices less than $1 that I had accumulated enough change to try again! I reached down to the change bin, and pulled out three quarters and two nickels. I looked back into the devil chest to review my options once more. I put in the three quarters, and pressed “E” and “8″.

Time seemed to come to a crawl as the motor began to whir again. The feeder seemed to be turning at less than half of it’s normal rate. I watched, and my now coveted bag of M&M’s fell. I kept watching, and my heroic bag of M&M’s slowly neared the edge of their row. Closer, closer, c-l-o-s-e-r! And they fell.

I think my heart stopped for a moment. I stared in disbelief at the bottom of the basin. There, waiting for me to reach in, was a Butterfinger, a bag of pretzels, and two bags of M&M’s. I blinked purposefully to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I slowly reached into the beast and pulled out all four items, one at a time. I finally had my M&M’s.

As I walked back to my desk, I started to tally the cost of my $0.70 snack. I had spent $2.85 and nearly 10 minutes just to get a bag of M&M’s.

And all I had wanted was just a bag of M&M’s…

Yesterday, one of my tropical co-workers sent me an email containing this image:

It’s an ad for a “Laptop Security Sweater”. Yup, that’s right. I’ll have one soon, but more for warmth than for security… but at least it will be nice and cozy in my own little world!

PS- I posted the above image on the outside wall of my cubicle. Hopefully the facilities folks will notice…

Personally, I would leave after the first 10 seconds of awkwardness. Some people, however, think that it’s cool to stick around for much, much longer. For the record, a lack of eye contact and/or the absence of my participation in the conversation should be an indication that I just plain don’t care.

Just sayin’.

I’m not sure where this one really came from. I received it as an email attachement from a coworker, and so I can’t link to it’s web-based origin.

Television is called a medium because it is neither rare nor well done.

I like it. A lot.

**I’m fully aware that I’m stereotyping here… but it is necessary for my story. And since it IS my story….

After transitioning to my current responsibilities at work, I’ve discovered what I like to call the Brick Wall. This is something that I tend to encounter every afternoon at about 2:30. This brick wall is not one that you will find as an architectural structure or feature, but rather one that seems to knock me out.

You see, my new job has a lot of preparation time for activities that eventually happen – or sometimes get cancelled entirely. So I spend a good portion of most days reading and typing, trying to understand the upcoming activities. I have meetings in the morning, but not too many in the afternoon, and it seems like most of the excitement happens before lunch.

At Noon I typically leave my desk for an hour-long lunch break. I typically go home for lunch and prepare something quick and easy. “Quick and easy” doesn’t always mean “healthy and nutritious”, but I do make an effort to eat fairly healthy and balanced.

When I get back to work, I’m always excited to see what emails have arrived in my absence. I’m starting to learn, though, that EVERYone else takes an hour-long lunch break at Noon, too, so there typically aren’t any emails for me to review and address. So I return to my reading and other preparations.

And this is when I hit the Brick Wall.

It’s as if someone walks by my desk with a tranquilizer gun or something… at 2:30, I CANNOT keep my eyes open. I start to nod-off, which I’m sure entertains anyone that sees it, including the guy that sits across the hall from me that can see directly into my cubical at all times, and I eventually have to get up and walk around the office to get over it.

Other than the monotony of my job, though, I can’t figure out what is causing it! I’ve tried eating different foods at lunch. I’ve doubled-up and/or laid-off the caffine. I’ve tried listening to a completely different genre of music. I’ve tried sitting cross-legged in my chair, hoping that the discomfort would help keep me awake. I JUST CAN’T SEEM TO BEAT IT.

So this is why the Mexicans are so smart – they don’t fight it. They embrace it. Can you say “siesta”? (Hint: SEE-ess-tah) I hereby vote to have a siesta every afternoon for the remainder of my career.

(The sad thing is that there is a “rest area” at work where we are allowed to drop in and take a brief nap during the day. I’ve yet to even open the door to this room, but I may start to investigate it very soon…)

So, what does hope really get us? Frankly, unless our hope is strong enough to get us to take serious action, hope is just an empty desire. It will get us nowhere unless we make a concerted effort to move forward. I can spend all day hoping that I will make progress on a project, but unless I actually focus and work on the project, nothing will be accomplished.

Although I haven’t heard/seen/read much of President Obama’s speeches, what I do hear a lot is about how he has placed an emphasis on hope. While it was a really effective way of capturing the hearts of so many, it will be worthless if nothing gets done. So many people will have placed their hope in a person, ideas, and/or promises and may not have anything to show for it at the end of the day.

Thus, let us all look at what we are hoping for and then find a way to attain/obtain it.

(source)

Sorry, y’all. I’ll try to do something creative tonight to get refueled. Hopefully I’ll get something decent posted soon.

My take? Very nice.

“Here’s to you, Mr. Hacked-into-the-digital-road-sign. (Mr. Hacked-into-the-digital-road-si-ign!) You sucessfully prepared highway travelers for the Zombies that were lurking in the darkness ahead. (Those Zombies were lu-ur-kin’!)…”

I can’t really get into detail right now, but yeah — I just feel like I’ve been a bit blindsided. I’m sure I’ll be able to fill everyone in within a few days.