Feb 1, 2006

Hibernation Techniques Of The Lesser Northern Damselfish And It's Impact On Iron Refining In Madison, Wisconsin

There are days that I dream of having a post title that is longer than the actual post.  Unfortunately, today is not to be that glorious and sun-soaked day.
 
No, today is to be a post on hot tea, people I cannot stand the presence of, and wearing pyjamas to work.
 
Perhaps in that order.  Watch me segue.  (And no, not that annoying two-wheeled stand-up thing that was all the rage back a few years.)
 
I like hot tea in the mornings at work.  I start the morning off with a bowl of oatmeal and a very tall cup of iced tea, Lipton to be exact, with lots of sugar.  Black as night, cold as a witch's heart, and sweet as love.  When I get to work, sometime between 9 and 10:30 I get the hankering for a cup of hot tea, usually Bigelow's Constant Comment, but it's not unheard of for me to enjoy a cuppa Earl Grey, or some spicy Chai, or if I'm feeling adventuresome it might be a cuppa the champagne of teas, Darjeeling.
 
The bit that gets me where I live?  People. 
 
Kay, lemme 'splain.  The office is a big sponsor of the American Heart Association.  As such, we're raising funds in the office for the upcoming Heart Walk, and to do so we're having Pyjama Day today in the office.  So bright and early this morning I come into work in my almost brand-new Xmas pyjamas (white with sort of thick alternating Oxford stripes) and my almost brand-new Xmas robe, very long and heavy in burgundy, and my black carpet slippers.  The nurse who shall remain nameless but annoying who is always at work about three hours early steps out and sees me, and says, completely honestly, "Did you sleep here last night?"  And being an arse, I went ahead and played along, and for quite a while she was certain I had a cot hidden somewhere.  And naturally I got tired of that, because it was like shooting fish with a howitzer.
 
So anyway, a few minutes later I'm sitting at my desk steeping a cuppa Constant Comment, and she puts on the worst British accent I have ever heard and asks me if I've got any scones.  I could have dashed the entire cup in her face because that had to be the most inane thing anyone could have said while seeing me drinking a cup of tea.  But I held my temper and my cup, and quietly went on about my day.  There are times...oh there are times.
 
And of course after all that she starts seeing the other three office types in THEIR pyjamas and off we go again, her having to tell us all about how SHE sleeps and what she sleeps in and how she once made scones by hand et cetera et cetera ad nauseum.  Honestly, why do people feel the need to go on and on when it's pretty apparent (by their leaving the area) that NOBODY CARES?
 
At least I know a few of you care (out there) about my trials and tribulations and my desperate need to slay someone insipid enough to make jokes about a cup of tea that I have EVERY SINGLE MORNING, a ritual that she has seen me perform I'm certain a good dozen or more times, much less the other people in the office who have watched me make cups of tea for the past 10 or so months EVERY SINGLE MORNING and never felt the need to open their cakeholes to make a very poor joke about drinking tea.
 
And yes, I do feel better now, thank you for letting me share.

2 comments:

Vulgar Wizard said...

Yes, all this from the same f-ing nurse who insisted that Irrelephant's poor little X-mas tree needed to be watered EVERY GODDAMN DAY, SONOFABITCH, GO TO HELL, GET OUT OF THE OFFICE, YOU REAK OF STUPIDITY, MORON, I HATE YOU, GOODBYE.
Oh, wait, did I say all that out loud? Cripes.

Vulgar Wizard said...

I swear to God, man.