Don't Mess with Sally's Ice Hole

Okay, you have to not only work where I do to understand that one, but you have to work right at my desk or in the row of desks next to mine. We had a bit o' drama in the office this week over somebody's personal space & items being violated, and instead of them allowing for the possibility that hey, maybe they just spaced out and took the items home, they started pointing fingers, running amok accusing folks of messing with their stuff.

I'm thinking of the Buffalo Springfield song, in which is said, Paranoia strikes deep/ into your life it will creep/ it starts when you're always afraid/step out of line and they'll take you away. With some people, it's stuff from the refrigerator or their office, with others it's the air in their tires.

Well, the place I work is an inherently nutty one, due to the folks we help and their various problems and complaints-- my weekly ride is sort of an atonal Merry-go-Round with malady, disharmony and arhythm fueling the machine. So if you have some nuttiness in you, it'll surface at some point. Some people get paranoid, others go crazy in other ways.

I guess, just like the TV show The Office , every office has one: the tightly-wrapped individual who always seems to have a crisis going, whether it's people into their stuff or the wrong colored pens, and is usually in the manager's office a good 60% of the time voicing said problems. One of the people working near his office said that it happens so much with one individual that you don't even hear what they're saying anymore, just a wall of sound- much akin to the Peanuts specials where the voices of adults(school principals et al)were done with a trumpet w/plunger mute-wawawawa....

Well what the hell. It's happened before and will happen again. Like other office equipment that malfunctions from time to time, it's in the wiring with this individual. A little oil and a tweak and they're good as new. At least for the time being..