My Life, As Told Between (Baby Cakes') Naps

I don’t usually post twice in one day. In fact, I don’t know that I ever have, but JP made another funny comment today and minutes later a friend of mine emailed me asking for more work stories, so I thought I’d post this short one. Plus, I really, really don’t want to write this motion.In any case, to provide some background for this story: (1) My eyes are still bothering me so I’ve taken to wearing my new glasses (which I LOVE) to work for the last few weeks. Today, I thought I would try the contact lenses again to see if the problem had magically solved itself (the verdict’s still out). (2) I am wearing a shawl today. This will all make sense in a minute. I promise.

This exchange occured at the office monthly birthday celebration, whereby those of us not chained to the desk that day gather in the kitchen for homemade cake (made every month by the sweetest secretary) to celebrate that month’s birthdays.

JP: (*Noticing I don’t have my glasses on*) “You need to decide whether you’re going to wear glasses or not. This switching back and forth is confusing me.”

Me: “Yes, Sir.” (*Said both meekly and mockingly*)

JP: (*Noticing the shawl*) “What are you wearing? Is that a scarf or something?”

Me: “It’s a shawl. Do you like it?”

JP: “Uh, it’s okay. What does it do?”

Me: “What do you mean what does it do? It’s a shawl. It does this.” (*Gesturing to shawl draped elegantly across shoulders*)

JP: “Oh.”

A few days ago, JP returned a draft of something I had handed him.  Usually my drafts return hemorhaging red ink and shuffling off on its last mortal coil.  This time, it had only substained a flesh wound and was barely limping.  After making the required changes, I dropped by JP’s office to pilfer pretzels, which he keeps in plentiful supply on his desk, and to ask if I could send the document out the door.  He replies, “Yes, thanks.”  I stand by expectantly, a porter waiting for the tip.  After a couple of seconds, JP notices and looks up, slightly baffled.

“Aren’t you going to compliment me?”  I ask, spoiled after too many assigments for SP, who strongly believes in positive reinforcement.

“What?”  He inquires, bemusement splayed across his usually stoic features.

“Well, you barely revised this draft!”  I reasonably point out.

“Barely?”  He says, one eye-brow raised superciliously.

“Don’t you remember how bad the first thing I turned into you was?”

“Yeah.”  He whispers, noticebly wincing at the memory, a distant look in his eyes as he recalls the horror.  “That was really bad.  I guess this is better.”

It’s a good thing I have a healthy ego…