A Day at The Office

This morning, I literally "got served." By a uniformed constable, packin' heat and all. That's a first for me. Actually, I was just signing for another attorney - he's the one getting sued. Sweet.

Later, as I was passing an office that has a lot of inspirational and religious decor strewn about, I overheard the woman who works in there telling another gal, "I mean, I try to live in a Godly way, and dammit if that little shit doesn't bring me down every time." I nearly shot Diet Coke out of my nose.

After lunch, I noticed a group of young male trainees gathered outside for a dip break. DIP, people. Not a smoke break or a liquid lunch, but nastyass, "minty fresh," will-eat-a-hole-in-your-gums snuff. Standing around scratchin' and spittin', the lot of 'em. Guh-ross.

Next, I got to thinking - if I were an office supply, what would I be?

You Are a Post-it

You have a good memory. You're memory is so good, in fact, that it can be down right annoying at times. You don't mean to nag, but you like to remind people what they're supposed to be doing. You may be a bit of a pest, but you're awfully cute. So no one minds it all too much when you pop up. You would make a good manger, salesperson or attorney. You can cram a lot of info into that head of yours.

What Office Supply Are You?

And then it was 2:15, and I left. The End.