Quietly Going Mad
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
So there I was, at my larger-than-life desk (thank you, cancelled orders, for this gi-normous desk/table/slab of wood)...minding my own business...when a manila folder jumped out of the towering tray organizer, donned a top hat, spats, and cane (a la Mr. Peanut) and starting singing "Puttin' On The Ritz" by Taco.

Well, not really, but I'm that crazed right now so if that actually DOES happen, I would not be surprised.

How do you distinguish gender on a manila folder? Tab placement, perhaps?

All my work today demands that I stay seated at my desk. No escape, no possibility of a jaunt downstairs, nothing. So here I sit, while my mind melts into a blob, oozing down my Herman Miller knockoff chair, and onto the dark, stained berber carpet.