The Office

We had our annual Thanksgiving pig out at work last Tuesday. There were no less than a half a dozen varieties of homemade pie, a buffet of 2-liter soft drinks, two huge serving platters of turkey with side dishes and sauces galore including dressing, gravy, several cheese-laden casseroles, sweet potatoes, those green bean wrapped in bacon and stuck with a toothpick thingys, plastic bags of store bought junk food goodness (because nothing says gratitude more than Chips Ahoy cookies), croissants, and about a thousand sausage balls from our resident sausage ball king. Just typing all of that raised my cholesterol level. Last year I was still working from home after having Amelia and I missed the lunch. One thing about working from home is the feeling that you are missing out on scintillating conversation, or at least some good gossip or weekend wrap ups from all your single co-workers.

The topics discussed at our Thanksgiving work lunch last week included such riveting topics as:

    annoying magazine salespeople who stalk you in your neighborhood and grocery store parking lot
    my co-worker’s circa 1985 Chia sheep he recently purchased at a yard sale and brought in to work
    the offensive aroma the aforementioned Chia sheep emits whenever it is watered
    the myth of the sugar high, to which I retorted “but you haven’t seen my kids on Halloween”
    a new caffeinated drink called “Bawls” that is marketed toward gamers
    my co-worker’s misunderstanding the last topic and thinking my other co-worker said a new caffeinated drink called “Balls” that is marketed toward gay men

Oh yes, the adult conversation is plentiful at ye old workplace.

3 comments

  1. Anne says:

    I make it a point to not answer the front door anymore BECAUSE of the magazine sellers. What a-holes.

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