Friday, June 13, 2003

Why does homemade fudge never taste as good as the kind you buy? Someone on my floor left a little tupperware container of fudge out in the kitchen, obviously saying, "here, help yourself to my delicious homemade fudge, which I think is so good, I have brought it in to work for you to taste."

I sure wish I hasn't tasted it. It was baaad. I think it was made with bittersweet chocolate and no sugar, which if any of you had mothers who baked during your childhood, know tastes like ass-- all of us were that kid, "moooom, I don't care what you say, I want the chocolate!", like our mom's were trying to fool us about how unedible it was.

I have also just realized that I am too short for the special chair I convinced my boss to order due to painful sitting in the other old chair. If I want to have my feet on the floor, then my chin has to be up a little, my head tipped back just slightly, to view my screen. At the end of the day, this position causes all the muscles in my shoulders and neck to tighten and cramp so that I have to hang my head down on the bus ride home like I am ashamed of something.

If I want to sit all the way back in the chair, and have it offer me the lower lumbar support I need, then I have to settle for having my only my toes rest comfortably on the floor.

And if I want to not have neck strain, then my damn feet dangle like a little kid. No thanks, I already get enough shit around here for being under 30 and not having 5 children. "You are young and uninseminated therefore you must not be good at this job. I will eye you untrustingly the whole time you are here doing my finances, which I never took the time to learn having spent my time getting inseminated and aging like a respectable person."

And while I'm at it, I'm also too short for most public bathrooms. To sit fully on the seat, my feet dangle. Thats just not fair.

I hope all of you get stuck on a seventeen hour flight with me and watch me easily cross and uncross my legs.