After my death, assuming there is an benevolent afterlife waiting for me, i hope there is a room in which i can go to see all of the work i have accomplished during my lifetime. i was contemplating today exactly how many onions have i chopped, diced and minced in my six year career as a food service drone. How many stalks of celery, how many carrots, potatoes, chickens have i hacked up? How many pounds of meat have i cooked, braised, baked, broiled. i hope i can walk around the room and see the mounds of food, cartons of eggs, piles and piles of mash potatoes, all there before me. Behold, Gaius, this was your life.
i'd also like to see all of the food i've eaten, too. Gallons upon gallons of ketchup. Pot after pot of coffee. Vats of beer, box after box of Fudge pops (no sugar added! only 40 calories!), sandwich upon sandwich upon sandwich. Pizza after pizza. And perhaps a dead bug or to.
...
i've noticed a direct correlation between the level of my mood and the presence of my boss.
When one goes up, the other inexplicably seems to go down. Hmmm. Strange, i know. We call it 'friends and family day,' when she's not there.
...
Tomorrow shall prove to be a very interesting day. I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but actually i kind of am. Awkwardness shall abound, as someone mayhaps be getting the proverbial axe.
Stirring up the pot.
Let the party begin.
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1 comment:
I hear that the proverbial axe is much harsher than the actual axe. Unless the axe we're talking about is the nasty "cologne" my two teenaged nephews douse themselves with. Um, what?
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