My cubemate is taking the end of the week off, which means she's compressing five days of work into three, and the strain is beginning to show. As the pressure mounts, she's taken to saying the phrase, "Tore up from the floor up," over and over (and over) in this sing-songy kind of voice as she goes about her day, and when I ask her to say it a little less, maybe take a break from saying it for a minute, she resorts to just saying "Tore!" and then looking over at me expectantly, and then, a few minutes later, doing it again.
It's pretty funny, because she's not saying it, but she's making me say it, in my head. I figure this makes us even for the time I kept cracking my knuckles, even after she begged me to stop.
One year ago today: Cancer and Entropy
Two years ago today: Making Friends These Days
Three years ago today: A Block is About 100 Steps
Six years ago today: 1/11/11 bad mood meanderings
Nine years ago today: 1-11-08 A New York Moment