All of this before I heard the phrase �bad mother board.�
Yes, it is not my computer, and no, it�s never run quite properly. But it went down on my watch, and I feel bad. I guess that�s what differentiates the two of us, and maybe that explains why we�re no longer close friends. I feel empathy and guilt. I also still feel like someone�s applied a giant binder clip to my head and neck, but I digress.
I am sleeping too much and am having too many stupid dreams about things like having a pet bird that escapes from the apartment when someone opens the door, then standing at the window and watching as a hawk swoops in, catches and eats the bird.
----
But there�s this. Reb and John, both former coworkers of mine, constructed a delightful game last week that�s just hours of good fun, and I feel compelled to pass it along. It all started with that frightening �The Surreal Life� show, which I think we can say we all found horrifying, yet compelling, and generally unnecessary to watch. After all, if any one person in your office watched it, you were surely entertained my reenactments all day on Friday, right? Back to the point. John and Reb spent a good deal of time thinking of the perfect cast for �The Surreal Life, Part II.� Everyone from Nell Carter to June Carter Cash. Loads of fun.
But then. Oh yes, but then. They decided to imagine what it would be like if they did a version in their workplace, and after laughing so hard Reb split her arm and had to have it tied up with gauze, they realized that any random combination of 8 coworkers was hysterical.
We don�t know if maybe we work with a statistically higher percentage of freaks than the rest of the world (works in my office, too). We suspect so. But you try the game out and report back to me. But I�ll warn you�it did compel me to watch the rerun of the first episode of the show. Maybe that�s part of the reason I�m dreaming of dead budgies. Or maybe that has something to do with the death of Maurice Gibb of the Bee Gees, since my mother insisting upon discussing his demise with me whilst I was trying to get work done yesterday.
----
This morning the mother sent me an e-mail entitled �Smile,� which bodes ill to begin with. Upon opening it and seeing some stupid dancing smiley face, I see a caption that read, �If this doesn�t make your day, nothing will.�
Indeed.