I knew yesterday was going to be another lose-your-mind Friday when Nice Guy came meandering past my desk with eyes clamped tight to the steely carpeting, as if it’s cheap, course fibers were imparting great words of wisdom about the meaning of life, the mysteries of Mozart, and the mind-boggler that is Ashlee Simpson’s ability to maintain a singing career, despite the fact that she has no discernable talent, besides making me feel vomitous each time I hear a squealing note.

So Nice Guy… While passing through, I notice he’s emitting a strange, throaty chant. In the most morose of tones, with a cartoonesque Spanish accent, Nice Guy warbled cuhhhhrist-uh, chrrrrrrrrrist, chrrrrrrrrrrist to the floor boards.

Am not sure what that was about. But I think I have a pretty good visual descriptor of Nice Guy for those who are interested:

Nice guy is Moomin incarnate.

And I realize for all his eccentricities, Nice Guy is really not so strange in the scope of things. I myself must look pretty weird to my coworkers. During my morning ritual, as I always do, I pour a big full scoop of powdered berries into my microwaved cup of Evian.

Although I know this concoction is merely a pleasantly-fragranced antioxidant tea, it could appear to my coworkers that I may be suspiciously low on fiber. Yes,this berry tea comes in a big, plastic canister just like something else people drink for their health…

Posted in Food, Work