July 31st, 2003


Voice in my head

When the Annoying Loud Guy (who sits one cubicle over from me at work) starts totally driving me crazy, I find myself responding to his conversations in my head. He'll be on the phone with his wife, talking loudly about inane subjects. I silently insert my own responses in the breaks in conversation. It makes me feel a tiny bit better.

"Why are they complaining about people peeing on their lawn?" [he switches to a whining slurred mumbling voice and imiates them briefly, making my skin crawl]
Holy crap Annoying Guy, don't ever make those noises again!
"They should stop complaining and just chain a doberman in their yard!"
"Then nobody would pee on their lawn, unless they wanted their thing bitten off."
What if they don't actually want a doberman?
"Those people in Wyandott are the most whining, complaining, obnoxious people anywhere!"
You mean like you?
"I'm so glad I don't live there anymore!"
I wish you were in Wyandott right now.
"I don't understand why people would complain about something like this!"
I don't understand why you're a COMPLETE IDIOT!
[He continues on at this point, but I can no longer hear him over the sound of my head-voice...]
"Okay, talk to you later, bye."

[Silence. Peace and quiet. It's over...for now.]

And yes, those are actual things he said, as close as I can remember them. He apparently thought somebody was a complainer because some stranger was peeing on their lawn?! That's too weird.

(And oh no....I'm not repressed. Everything's fine! I'm not going to explode one day. No-siree, not me. Everything's just a-okay here in cubicle-land! heehee.)

Cracker Jacks

Awhile ago I was feeling a bit hungry, so I went to get a snack. I bought a nice bag of Cracker Jacks ("Prize Inside!"). As I carried them back to my desk, my distracted brain started running through the lyrics of an old commercial from my childhood,

"Cracker Jack! Cracker Jack! Cinnamon-tasty, that's but a fact. Apple-crunchy, something-too, Kellogs Cracker Jacks!"

I wasn't paying much attention to what was humming along inside my head. It wasn't until I got to my desk, sat down, and began to open the bag that I realized: "Wait a minute...that's the song for Apple Jacks, not Cracker Jacks!" Then I felt rather foolish.

I was half-way through the bag before I could remember an actual Cracker Jack commercial...then I felt a little better.

"When you're really good, they call you Cracker Jack!"

The prize wasn't very good though.