I hope my boss doesn’t read this for multiple reasons. One, I’m blogging on the clock. Two, well, you’ll see. There is a small part of me that wonders in fear if my boss has one of those programs where you can see what everyone else in the office is doing on their computer. I am comforted, though, knowing I’d be long gone if that were the case. #porn. JUST KIDDING, celebrity gossip and lots of homework.
A couple days ago, Edible Arrangements came into our office and handed me seven large chocolate stars on sticks--one for everyone in the office. She said, “If you don’t eat it right away, make sure to put it in the refrigerator because it’s a chocolate covered pineapple.” So I handed them out to everyone and relayed the pineapple warning. Except my boss. Pause, let me paint you a picture.
My boss always leaves his door ajar, and his office is diagonal to my right. Therefore, if I look to my right I have a perfect narrow view of him at his computer. And he’s constantly sittin there in my periph. It’s honestly a little awkward. I get uncomfortable and feel like he can see my thoughts.
But ANYWAYS, I decided not to tell him it was a pineapple. It looks like a giant solid innocent chocolate star (my dream). And I am strung out for entertainment here. If he took a bite and even just flared his nostrils in surprise, it would be worth it to me. #secretaryprobz. I was hoping for more though.
…
Three days later, he came out and handed me his chocolate star and said, “Here, you can have this for all the hard work you do.” I laughed, but quickly realized he was serious. I don’t think he knew everyone in the office got one... And he definitely didn’t know there was a dank rotten pineapple hiding in their. So I composed myself and said, “Thank you” and took the nasty thing. It was sitting there on my desk staring at me. I got a waft of the milk chocolate smell, at least I think...it could have been all in my head. But when I get chocolate smell wafts, I NEED CHOCOLATE. My bosses door was closed. I tried to talk myself out of it, because hey, that’s disgusting. But all at once I lost control. I started viciously pulling at the decorative wrapping. It wasn’t budging. That should have been a sign. I whipped my drawer open, grabbed the scissors, and cut over and over and over until it broke free. I was a mad woman. My animalistic fingers dug at the thin chocolate covering as I ferociously shoved the pieces in my mouth. I started to smell the squishy old pineapple, but even that couldn’t stop me. Chocolate juice was dribbling down my chin and falling on my skirt. Things had gotten out of hand. I glanced at my reflection in my black computer screen...I was a monster. I could feel the lines of chocolate in between each one of my teeth. And I liked it. Just then, a client walked into the office. I quickly did the classic forearm swipe of the lower face region. I talked to him grandma style, sans teeth. He walked towards me and smiled at me with a smile that was too big for a client to secretary smile. I wondered what he saw. I got up and walked to the bathroom to wash the chocolate out from under my fingernails and to regather myself as a civil human being. I looked in the mirror and saw that a pool of chocolate juice had gathered in the indent of my lower neck (I should know what that’s called but I don’t and I’m NOT going to look it up). And it had created a perfect brown liquid trail down my cleavage. Skirt, shirt, and bra all stained in one beastly episode. Well done, self. But that wasn’t all. There was a good sized chunk stuck to MY FOREHEAD. Now, I actually wasn’t too surprised about that. You can ask my parents. Part of dinner ending up on my forehead was nothing out of the ordinary. We never knew how it happened, but somehow it just kept happening. I think sometimes I get too excited when I eat and I lose control. It’s like those cartoons when they shove huge amounts of food in their mouth and food starts flying everywhere. That’s me. Four separate times now I have been told I look like Gollum when I eat. FOUR TIMES! Four times don’t lie.
So I laughed at myself. Because sometimes you have to laugh out loud at yourself in the mirror.
The moral of this story is, 'Sometimes you just really need chocolate, and it's okay to do weird things to get it.'
No comments:
Post a Comment