CLIMATE
CREW
INSIGHTS
My Toys Have Taken Over
Posted : September 6, 2006
Earlier today I returned to my cube to find my toys had taken over. Grommit was of course arresting the belly dancer as usual.
The rabbits politely watched me work.
And Sir-hugs-a-dog kept giggling his incessant wacky cackle.
The days have been good here working on Horton Hears a Who. But I can't help the wonder wiggles inside my head: "How long [my name here]?"
How long until my toys stop bothering me?
How long until I learn how to ride my bike without the training wheels?
How long until I'm a level 9 master druid?
Many of these questions can never be answered and that's ok. I like bikes. It's the asking that matters, but who will hear me? Horton can hear the Whos, but who can hear the "me"s? Aside from my toys I mean...and their strategic giggle inducing reconnaissance. They are always listening...and laughing...and falling over at the strangest times.
Why do I try to balance things...like spilled milk...on my forehead when no one is looking?
I think 9 is a good number. Yesterday I was taking the subway home and I pretended I had just acquired a super mario invulnerability star. "Dun da dun, dun da dun, da dun da dun..." I sang my own theme song through the car though I can't explain how I sparkled. When I looked up, people were giving me money. With that money I bought robot man and introduced him to my cubicle ecosystem.
Unfortunately, robot man was not yet in tune with the sphere of positive energy I had erected around my cube using druid magic. He quickly became a bully.
He stole my pen and threatened green elf guy with my keyboard, squashing right out of him all the joy and laughter of a thousand tickled children.
Tonight I think I'll go to bed early.
- Anonymous
CREW
INSIGHTS
Posted : September 6, 2006
Earlier today I returned to my cube to find my toys had taken over. Grommit was of course arresting the belly dancer as usual.
The rabbits politely watched me work.
And Sir-hugs-a-dog kept giggling his incessant wacky cackle.
The days have been good here working on Horton Hears a Who. But I can't help the wonder wiggles inside my head: "How long [my name here]?"
How long until my toys stop bothering me?
How long until I learn how to ride my bike without the training wheels?
How long until I'm a level 9 master druid?
Many of these questions can never be answered and that's ok. I like bikes. It's the asking that matters, but who will hear me? Horton can hear the Whos, but who can hear the "me"s? Aside from my toys I mean...and their strategic giggle inducing reconnaissance. They are always listening...and laughing...and falling over at the strangest times.
Why do I try to balance things...like spilled milk...on my forehead when no one is looking?
I think 9 is a good number. Yesterday I was taking the subway home and I pretended I had just acquired a super mario invulnerability star. "Dun da dun, dun da dun, da dun da dun..." I sang my own theme song through the car though I can't explain how I sparkled. When I looked up, people were giving me money. With that money I bought robot man and introduced him to my cubicle ecosystem.
Unfortunately, robot man was not yet in tune with the sphere of positive energy I had erected around my cube using druid magic. He quickly became a bully.
He stole my pen and threatened green elf guy with my keyboard, squashing right out of him all the joy and laughter of a thousand tickled children.
Tonight I think I'll go to bed early.
- Anonymous
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