I am a very bad blog-mama. I started work last week, on July 5, about 3 1/2 months after the surgery. My first day I didn't wear my brace, but the next day I started wearing it again because my back was so sore and fatigued. Just sitting at a computer and walking around in work shoes is enough to kill ya! To my surprise, my brace, obscene boob-attention grabber, has been the source of many stares and quiet whispering on the downtown city streets. You thought teenagers were bad?! Try working stiffs who have been locked up in their pathetic little cublicles - these are the ones who are looking for some amusement, and with me they have found it! So I walk around downtown with my brace on, thinking I am cool and/or sexy because I have finally applied some makeup, and around me the suit-coats are snickering and salivating, pulsating with grotesque curiosity, and I can't blame them because I have been there myself.
Interesting: three people cut in front of me in the line at Alonti, which I hate anyway. The brace does not give me preferential treatment or sympathy from strangers. They push me around and clobber me with their elbows on the street just as if I were any other annoying maggot in the way of their journey.
I work in the IBM Building, which will soon be called something else, pursuant to a purchase or lease agreement entered into with the highest bidder. I will always call it the IBM Building. Life is changing so fast around me I can hardly keep up. My dad used to work in this building eons ago as an insurance salesman for Connecticut Life or something like that. I wonder if I have his office.
In any case, my building has only one restaurant in it, which is the above-mentioned Alonti, and I don't care if you are the Queen of England, if I have to eat your food every day I'm going to eventually want to chop your head off! And so this Alonti, with its monopoly on our tastebuds, has done what any good capitalist marketing guerilla would do and upped their prices so that we of little time are forced to pay a king's ransom for a sub-standard sandwich. Who can eat sandwiches every day? Apparently most people who work in the Chicago Loop. What did people eat before sandwiches were invented? Soup in a bag? The hell I live in, the hell.
My back hurts, but not the same way it did before the surgery. I am happy to be back at work, for I was losing my mind spending all those hours alone, with nothing but a computer to entertain me. For some reason, I didn't watch alot of TV during my medical sojourn, which definitely stems from my TV snobbery and general annoyance with anything pop-culture. HYPOCRITE: I choose to look down upon the pop-culture of my choosing, all the while spending all my mad-money on People Magazine and Good Housekeeping. You really know you have hit the old-time when you read Better Homes and Gardens instead of "Self" or "Glamour."
On that topic, the last time I picked up a Glamour Magazine, I was invited to learn exactly what men really want in bed. Sadly, I already knew the answer to that, and was unamused by the information provided inside this silly little excuse for porn. The answer, in case you didn't know is this. What men really want in bed is: A Naked and Willing Woman! The end. Women think that men are running around town, screwing their brains out, and ending up bored with the simple act of fornicating. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I don't know any man in the world, save a few celebrities (and those aren't really people anyway), who has been over-sexed, or out-sexed, and ended up bored by the regularity of his encounters. So why Glamour magazines spend so much time and effort trying to explain what MEN want, why doesn't it explain what WOMEN want in bed, because apparently many of them don't know for sure themselves. Hey, I've been there, so I am not throwing stones.
I came back to work and things had changed so much over the course of 3 1/2 months that I was actually a little wistful and sad. I thought back to the time this lawfirm started, January 2004, and a whole slew of us were hired right away to deal with all the cases that were going to trial, most notably the Yoder trial. Anyway, we were all such good friends, and hung out after work together on a maddeningly frequent basis, and the office was full of familiarity and good humor. Well, that has changed, as more people have been added to the staff and several others have parted ways. I am actually a little shocked and ashamed of myself for feeling so sentimental about my workplace, but when you spend as much time here as I do, and most of the other lawyers do, it sort of becomes home.
How many times have I said, "I gotta get back home," while referring to work? And that was truly by mistake.
Work is good because then you are part of the fabric of society, which can easily pass you by if you let it. Sitting at home is good if you are a great homemaker, always dreaming up new additions to put on your house, desserts to bake, and parties to host. But I am not like that. I love home, but unfortunately, the world doesn't revolve around it.
Interesting: three people cut in front of me in the line at Alonti, which I hate anyway. The brace does not give me preferential treatment or sympathy from strangers. They push me around and clobber me with their elbows on the street just as if I were any other annoying maggot in the way of their journey.
I work in the IBM Building, which will soon be called something else, pursuant to a purchase or lease agreement entered into with the highest bidder. I will always call it the IBM Building. Life is changing so fast around me I can hardly keep up. My dad used to work in this building eons ago as an insurance salesman for Connecticut Life or something like that. I wonder if I have his office.
In any case, my building has only one restaurant in it, which is the above-mentioned Alonti, and I don't care if you are the Queen of England, if I have to eat your food every day I'm going to eventually want to chop your head off! And so this Alonti, with its monopoly on our tastebuds, has done what any good capitalist marketing guerilla would do and upped their prices so that we of little time are forced to pay a king's ransom for a sub-standard sandwich. Who can eat sandwiches every day? Apparently most people who work in the Chicago Loop. What did people eat before sandwiches were invented? Soup in a bag? The hell I live in, the hell.
My back hurts, but not the same way it did before the surgery. I am happy to be back at work, for I was losing my mind spending all those hours alone, with nothing but a computer to entertain me. For some reason, I didn't watch alot of TV during my medical sojourn, which definitely stems from my TV snobbery and general annoyance with anything pop-culture. HYPOCRITE: I choose to look down upon the pop-culture of my choosing, all the while spending all my mad-money on People Magazine and Good Housekeeping. You really know you have hit the old-time when you read Better Homes and Gardens instead of "Self" or "Glamour."
On that topic, the last time I picked up a Glamour Magazine, I was invited to learn exactly what men really want in bed. Sadly, I already knew the answer to that, and was unamused by the information provided inside this silly little excuse for porn. The answer, in case you didn't know is this. What men really want in bed is: A Naked and Willing Woman! The end. Women think that men are running around town, screwing their brains out, and ending up bored with the simple act of fornicating. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I don't know any man in the world, save a few celebrities (and those aren't really people anyway), who has been over-sexed, or out-sexed, and ended up bored by the regularity of his encounters. So why Glamour magazines spend so much time and effort trying to explain what MEN want, why doesn't it explain what WOMEN want in bed, because apparently many of them don't know for sure themselves. Hey, I've been there, so I am not throwing stones.
I came back to work and things had changed so much over the course of 3 1/2 months that I was actually a little wistful and sad. I thought back to the time this lawfirm started, January 2004, and a whole slew of us were hired right away to deal with all the cases that were going to trial, most notably the Yoder trial. Anyway, we were all such good friends, and hung out after work together on a maddeningly frequent basis, and the office was full of familiarity and good humor. Well, that has changed, as more people have been added to the staff and several others have parted ways. I am actually a little shocked and ashamed of myself for feeling so sentimental about my workplace, but when you spend as much time here as I do, and most of the other lawyers do, it sort of becomes home.
How many times have I said, "I gotta get back home," while referring to work? And that was truly by mistake.
Work is good because then you are part of the fabric of society, which can easily pass you by if you let it. Sitting at home is good if you are a great homemaker, always dreaming up new additions to put on your house, desserts to bake, and parties to host. But I am not like that. I love home, but unfortunately, the world doesn't revolve around it.
posted by Slipperysnake @ 2:25 PM
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