Monday, March 05, 2007

stop tantalizing my eye

Or, why it is good that I only work in the office one day a week.

I am not built for cubicle life – my hearing is too good and my distractability too great. Yesterday I was dutifully crafting a Question and Answer sheet, when I heard one of my coworkers call out "stop tantalizing my eye!" Anxious as I was to get something done before I left for the day, I used all my personal strength to not get up and ask what the hell she was talking about.

Another reason to avoid the office is the gross candies someone left in our shared food area. Oh, and I have no willpower. A couple weeks ago I ate something called “hot stinky feet.” Thankfully they did not taste like any kind of feet, but they weren’t hot either, so the truth in advertising quota was pretty low. I suspect they were left over from Halloween, circa 1987.


  1. Hot Stinky Feet, brought to you by the makers of Yeasty Suppurating Sores, America's favourite microwaveable pizza pocket! Buy them now!


  2. I would've eaten them all and demanded more.

    And I honestly cannot believe that you really didn't run to discover the source of tantalization. (seriously, spill; what did it end up being?)

    (It is no wonder that I run my own business; working amongst others does not = my forte.)

  3. when i worked in an office, back in the day (!) I used to suffer from the unmistakable pied pipers call to the pile of leftover meeting biscuits. We had a suite of meeting rooms in the basement for external visitors. external visitors who warranted the nice coffee and the chocolate biscuits which we would otherwise be denied. After you take you guests to the door, you have to rush back downstairs to the meeting room to retrieve any leftover biscuits and then bring them up to the 3rd floor. Where they would position themselves brazenly in the highest traffic area of the floor.

  4. I would totally eat those. And ask for more.

  5. Hot Stinky Feet! Oh, I must MUST get those! LA Mommy would absolutely hate it if I ate something like that. And anything that torments her is okay in my book.

    When I taught LA Toddler to like black jellybeans (which Mommy hates) I nearly sent her into a rage-induced coma. It was funny. Really. It was.