First Thing in the Morning 2.0

The second week's worth. More of the same, but different. More of the same differentness. 

Michael O'Shaughnessy's

First thing in the morning 2.0

3.6.02 Wednesday morning. Running around like little Billy from “Family Circus.” Throughout the office, life-size photocopies of my head are tacked up in cubicles. It’s not so unusual; somebody’s picture is usually posted here and there, usually manipulated by Photoshop or some other graphics program. Perhaps the rump of a donkey or the body of a baby. The “life-size” aspect is the unusual feature this time around. I feel like Mao. Perhaps a cult will arise from my visage. Apocalypse Soon! (I tend to procrastinate.) Listen to this: I needed to track down a Sales Rep, so I called her cell phone. She said she was at a Dunkin’ Donuts, so I says Great, get me a blueberry donut, but guess what? She wasn’t at the donut shop; she was at her desk, 40 feet from me! Boy, they had a great laugh. I could only see the tragedy of the situation: no blueberry donut! Into the day…

3.7.02 Unusually quiet and empty this morning. Even the regulars were missing. Icy roads were the culprit. Only Ralph and I were here. He regaled me with his chilly tale of being locked out of the building because of an unwedged door. His keys at his desk, and no one to let him in, he shuffled over to Burger King for a eggamuffin. 30 minutes later, another employee arrived to bring the poor soul in from the cold. So touched was I by Ralph’s ordeal, I retraced his footsteps 6 hours later. Neglecting my coat and scorning my gloves, I hiked down the back hallway, shivering as the first set of metal doors slammed behind me. Onward I tread, bursting through the last door before the hollow anger of winter. Snow! It’s snowing! Ralph didn’t tell me about snow! Did it snow on him? I can’t remember – already pre-vernal madness has sunk its icy thorns into my jittery psyche…Where am I? I trudged forward, hoping for any mammalian movement; even the chirp of a fallen sparrow would have offered me fleeting encouragement. But nothing…until…the front of the building faded in from the thinning blizzard. Civilization at last. I crawled the final few feet to the front lobby. Struggling to my feet, I brushed the wintry dust from my sweater and hobbled to my desk. What’s that old saying? You can’t know a man’s feet till you walk in his shoes? Today I walked in his shoes. No, his footprints. Well, near his footprints. Anyway, it was colder than a well digger’s rump out there! Into the day…

3.8.02 Addiction. It’s no joke. Except when it concerns Robert Downey, Jr. My addiction? Surprisingly, not a mood-altering drug. Far more sinister. It started simply enough. I had a few at first, hanging with some co-workers. No one was getting hurt, you know. Suddenly, I found myself doing it alone. A lot. Glue. Yep. Envelop glue. Licking 150-200 a day. I got real crazy, you know. Not even bothering to stuff them. I knew I was getting out of control when I started adding postage. Licking one stamp at a time. “For God’s sake, man,” an Associate pleaded, “we have a machine for that!” She was right. But my pride blocked my way. “I can handle it.” Yeah, right. A week later, they found me curled up in the supply room with a gross of Birds of America, mailing dust bunnies to Ecuador. Into the day…

3.11.02 I think it rained. I think it hailed. I think the sun came out. I’m not sure. I forgot to look out the window. Long day in the pit, sweating like Dan Haggerty, singing Spirituals: “Gonna go to Lake Oswego, gonna see Doc Pamplin…” When we look too weak, the managers splash cold coffee on us. The gesture is small, and highly insulting, but heartfelt, nonetheless. Into the day…

3.12.02 My Main Associate is out sick today. My workload quadrupled! It’s days like this when you realize how much you goof off the rest of the time. I have no time to do the following daily activities: feed the rats, do my Jack Parr imitation, fax passages from Revelations to Dr. Phil, make anagrams out of the obits, and Silly Putty the Police Log. These might seem useless, even frivolous, tasks. Well, don’t pat yourself on the back – it wouldn’t take water rocket manufacturer to figure that out. Anyway, I’ve got a paper to fractionally-assist putting out. Into the day…