Friday, March 24, 2006

Cake and B.O.

Last night was a total waste of an evening and the only good thing about it was that I got to sleep off the cold I mysteriously developed the moment I walked into work. Well it wasn't anything a little DayQuil couldn't fix, so I took two of those giant orange pills this morning and have been good to go. Except for a stiff dragging feeling in my legs, my run went pretty well and I ended up running longer than I had planned, although I think that had more to do with ending up too far away from the car to actually walk back and not catch pneumonia.

It is my dad's birthday today. I meant to go out last night to get him a gift but staying in bed was much more appealing than shopping. But almost anything is more appealing than shopping.
On birthday's, the lab has a "party" for the person and they get to chose the kind of cake that they want. (This is a new twist on this ritual - before it would always be cheesecake because that was my dad's favorite) There are so many of us and we have birthday's so often that the novelty has worn off, as has the awkwardness of denying a piece a cake. In addition to being totally neurotic about eating healthy, I just don't like cake. Period. But to turn down a piece of cake at an office party becomes an affront to the very practice of taking work time to do silly things. People take this concept seriously, and understandably so. After all it isn't often that we get a sanctioned break to stand around, chatting and kidding each other, albeit producing strained unfunny interchanges, it's a break from routine nonetheless.
But just leave me the fuck alone! I don't want you damn cake. A bunch of Marie Antoinette loyalists is what they are.

I think the DayQuil is making me sweat. I have huge pit stains on my shirt, so I am embarrased to take off my labcoat. In addition, I think that my lab coat smells, but I can’t be sure because my nose is stuffed up.
That’s is life in the lab for you: hot, sweaty and sticky with cheesecake

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