Oh, Filing Cabinet, where did I go wrong? I thought I had an ally in you. Remember the hours we spent together, filing and refiling and filing again? Remember how I sorted through your history, clearing the painful clutter from your endless Pendaflex (TM) folders? Remember how we laughed over the tacky Statue of Liberty background that was once used for the minutes of the Board Meetings, and congratulated ourselves for how far we've come in organization and design?

Oh, Filing Cabinet, how, oh HOW could I know you would turn on me? How could I foresee that you would unite with your misleading mechanical "brethren" among the copy makers and facsimile machines to plot my demise? How could I know that, in the office equipment community, you were just another Che Guevera wannabe?

I saw no bandana, Filing Cabinet. I saw no tattoos, no beret, no banner. I saw no leaflets, and heard no battle cries.

I did, however, see the beligerent de-railing of your drawer rungs. Files and correspondence akimbo. Have you no sympathy for the innocent files that were to be orphaned at the cost of your effort? 'Twas a grisly mess, a mishmosh of homeless and disorganized letters, which I struggled for half an hour to set right. Is nothing sacred to you anymore, save your proletariat uprising?

Completely blindsided was I, Filing Cabinet. I thought we had something.

Wily. Just when you think you can trust your office equipment, the seemingly most simple and trustworthy amongst them turns nasty.

And, Filing Cabinet, don't think I don't know about your whisperings with my once-comfy swivelly desk chair. I know you've put a bee in its bonnet. We once had such fun, my chair and I; We'd play little games to see how much I could accomplish while seated. A push against the desk, and WHEE! I'm at the bookshelves, grabbing something handy. A quick swivel, a push against the wall, a stealthy shift in weight, and WHEE! I'm back at my computer, Dictionary or Employee Handbook or Staples catalog in hand. And then, when I'd completed whatever task I and my trusty steed had set out to do, the two of us would settle back in comfort and mutual support.

But I've been plagued with chronic back-pains the past couple of weeks. No solace from my beloved chair. I need a beloinclothed houseboy, adept in the art of massage, that I can bring to the office. He'd never turn on me.

I'm onto you, Filing Cabinet. You and your "Raise Your Fist And Resist" chronies.

I've tried to put myself in your shoes, thinking, "If I cut them, do they not bleed?" And then I realized,

NO. YOU DON'T.

YOU ARE FILING CABINETS AND COPY MACHINES.

I am insane.

I have the biggest headache, and my eyes have ceased to focus, due in no small part to the relentless glow of my computer screen. Drat! When the computers unite with the office equipment, it will be the end of us all!

In other news, my parents are coming to visit me this weekend. YAY! And also, OH SHIT! This will both absolutely wonderful, and highly stressful. I'm very excited to have them here ... My dad has yet to see Chicago, and he's just such a darling. A man of few words, and completely laid back almost to the point of spaciness. Like me.

My mom, however, stresses me out. (I think it's in the job description.) For one thing, my mother makes no effort to hide the fact that she does not trust my ability to take care of myself, and that she thinks I'm a complete doormat. But it's love, folks. Mother's love. A mother's constant embrace, much like that of a boa constrictor.

This should make for an interesting weekend.

One more thing:

Y'all, Craig is kicking some serious ass in the Nipple Hair for Song Lyric Sweepstakes. Once again, he correctly identified this weeks lyric from the Velvet Underground song, "Pale Blue Eyes." I may have to add some small print, some sort of statute of limitations for multiple winnings.

But I probably won't do that. I don't think my eyes can handle small print.

Curse you, office machines!

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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