Feeling a bit silly today, thought I’d share an “Office Space” moment for my FridayFlash crew and cohorts from my pharmaceutical research days!
“You’re looking more tense than usual,” my snacking sidekick, Teresa, declares between bites of cheese crackers she found peeking out of my desk drawer.
“Our boss is in league with the devil,” I sigh, looking around for eavesdroppers. “He’s stretching my thin tether to sanity with all this futile busywork. If we didn’t have so many pointless meetings, I might actually be productive.”
“Preaching to the choir sista! I’ve had three meetings already today, it’s not even noon,” she complains, sneaking a sip of coffee, “one of ‘em was just about planning next week’s meetings. I swear, between our boss and the half dozen more above him, we’re looking at a miserable life of servitude.”
One of management’s minions pins us with a suspicious glare. “Don’t get caught eating in the lab again, last time they confiscated my entire week’s supply of Cheez-Its – you still owe me a box,” I warn.
“You should hide your stash behind the chemical counter, like newbie over there,” Teresa quips, gesturing towards the newest white coat currently breaking protocol by weighing capsaicin out in the open. A fit of coughing erupts near the scales. “The toxic fumes add a distinctive flavor, don’t ya think?” she grins.
“This place is a regulation nightmare,” I reply, shaking my head. “If the stress doesn’t kill us, the chemical cocktail will do the job.”
“Hey, that reminds me – I’ve signed up for a new stress management course. Last night, we fashioned our very own voodoo dolls,” Teresa announces proudly. “It’s supposed to channel our frustrations. Mine resembled a sad little suit in dire need of a dress code intervention and breath mints.”
“I find that very disturbing,” I reply, snatching the now empty snack bag from her hand.
“Really? I found it very therapeutic,” she retorts. “Unfortunately, my dog used it as a chew toy this morning – it’s toast.”
“Hey, you guys hear the news?” asks Jason, our resident red-head, sporting an unusually wide grin. “Mr. Snod got attacked by a dog or something this morning. He’s down for the count until next week. All meetings have been cancelled until further notice. Crazy, huh?”
© 2013 Samantha Redstreake Geary
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