7:08 a.m.
The Purple Line train pulls into the South Blvd. station. Commuters start shuffling to the doors to wait for the familiar ding signaling their opening, and then the immediate mechanical voice that warns the doors are now closing. Mere miliseconds after the doors have opened. (Yep. Because you are expected to be nothing, if not light-footed and snappy, this early in the morning.)

A rather large woman who wears socks with her dress shoes, waits at the same door as me and one other man. I am obviously in the back. The man is positioned squarely in the middle front of this line. The Rather Large Woman is off to the side, between us. When the doors open, he will be the first to step foot on the train due to his position.

Or should be the first, because when the doors open, homegirl literally heaves herself into him, throwing him in my direction, as she stumbles on to the train to claim two seats: One for her big head, and the other for her body.

8:19 a.m.
The #2 bus stops at 60th and Ellis. When she boarded 20 minutes earlier, I spotted my coworker. Seeing as how I’m seated in the middle of the bus, in the aisle, I know she saw me (and if she somehow missed my mass of poofy, desperately-in-need-of-a-root-touch-up curls…wouldn’t she be on the lookout for co-workers anyway since so many of us ride this route?). As I get off the bus, I glance at others de-boarding.

A shoulder knocks into my lunch bag as I glance at my coworker, inches from my face, hustling to the sidewalk. I look to the ground where she bumped me. A borwn mass. I don’t think twice about what it is.

I instead look up at her. She’s hoofin’ it. And not looking back. And not even bothering to stop at the red light. And not bothering to wait for me. So I walk into work alone. With one soiled shoe.

10:00 a.m.
(Hilarious) Coworker mentions that at yesterday’s faculty meeting, a backpack was left behind. He opened it to search for backpack owner’s name. After finding it, he runs outside to catch said person.

He taps the gentleman on the shoulder:
“Sir? You left your bag inside.”
“I don’t have a bag.”
“Not big? Black? Backpack?”
“Well, I do OWN one. But it’s back in my office.”
“Sir, we opened the bag. It had a letter to you in it. We believe this is yours.”
“It’s not. I’ll bet you $10,000 it’s not. Mine is back in my office. Now leave me alone,” he growls.
(Hilarious) Coworker goes back into the meeting room. Rifles through backpack once more. Additional items (including car registration form) signal it is this man’s bag, unless someone is stalking him and making copies of his legal documents. Coworker brings bag back to office.

Now Growler Faculty-Member calls department. Says he left bag in meeting room. (Hilarious) Coworker asks for his $10,000. Growler Faculty-Member legit screams in the department.

11:23 a.m.
(Different) Coworker comes over to my cube, plops a mass of cake next to me on a Gladware lid and tells me to try it. Apparently the mass was once Gin and Tonic cake. With real booze. That doesn’t bake out.

It’s delicious.

11:23 a.m. and 30 seconds later.
(Another) Coworker pops her head over my partition and asks, “Whatcha guys got there?” and leers at the small tablespoon specimen of cake. I shove it in my mouth and reply, “Cake.”

(Another) Coworker pouts at (Different) Coworker, obviously saddened by the fact that no one will feed her, even though she is a) older and knows better than to beg for food, b) gets paid more than me and (Different) combined, c) eats her lunch from the candy dish every day, d) doesn’t have the foresight to plan ahead and realize that lunch comes at the same hour everyday.

(How the heck does she pop in every moment there is a morsel of food in the office? 6th savory sense?)

2:48 p.m.
(Yet Another) Coworker walks past my cube, muttering to herself and me, “I busted my pants.”

3:07 p.m.
Eat last slice of pineapple. See juice at bottom of bowl. Rather than drink juice from bowl, I pour it into my empty cup to drink it.

I take a biiiiiig swig.

Then spit all over monitor. Said cup was not empty. Just drank cold, curdled coffee with pineapple juice in it.

3:08 p.m.
Wipe residue off computer monitor.

Is it bedtime yet?

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