I have this recurring nightmare. Not the one with the duck. This is a real one. Where I am happily working and I have tins of information I need to do my job but I know I don't have to remember it all because I have these e-mail files with it all in there. Loads and loads of current information that I can access because I know where it is, it's in my e-mail archives. It's like knowing the answer to final Jeopardy. Comforting. Ahhh!
Well, in my dream I accidentally hit a key, it's a mystery key and I have no idea what it is or how I hit it, but all of the sudden my e-mail files are all gone. They actually disappear before my eyes and I scream the most foul venom at my computer screen. Well guess what happened this afternoon at about 3:35 PM. You guessed it. I had a very similar experience except that I didn't lose all my e-mail archives, I dropped a piece of toast face down in the kitchen. It was awful.
Actually something like that did happen, the e-mails, not the toast. But instead of losing all of my e-mails, they just all got scrambled and dropped into on big mess of a file. So now I have my information but it's all messed up and it takes me forever to locate it. I have a three-day task facing me to re-arrange all of my lovely tasty e-mails into a cogent order again. I'm sure this would not have happend if I was working on a Mac. (Shout out to captain Dad there)
So otherwise, I am now working upstairs in Kevin's old room and it just might work. I want to you all to know I actually changed out of my jammies today when I was at work. I did wait until 2:30 PM to do it but that is not the point. I did change. We had a conference call where we discussed two audit files for almost three hours. I was laying on the bed with my clip board farting too beat the band and no one was the wiser. Except me of course - I was cracking myself up. Some of them were truly masterpieces of flatulent art. I kill me. My butt is the funniest thing on the planet. No joke there.
Anyway, I must now rest up for another jammied day at work.
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3 comments:
I have always thought your butt was funniest. In fact, I wrote it in my journal back when I was about 14--"Dave's butt is the funniest. He--or more precisely, his butt--is without peer." You can check.
I can't feel too sorry for you that your toast fell on the ground IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY while you were at home instead of in a cramped office.
I can however, picture exactly how hard you were laughing on a conference call amidst a myriad of farts. Some things never change.
Three things.
1. My new baby boy's bum can projectile poop at least two feet and hit a moving target (my hand). Not much funnier than that.
2. I don't think you can proclaim your butt the funniest with out concrete (insert joke here) evidence.
3. Macs are better. Their farts are young and hip and they don't stink.
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