Yes, we have no bananas

Normally I have a banana and a V-8 during my loooong drive to work. On the mornings I suspect I am missing the necessary coordination and alertness to peel and eat a piece of fruit while trying to keep my rear bumper out of the way of the vehicle behind me, I stuff the banana into my bag to eat at the office because, hey! one more thing to help me pass the time!

Today, being Monday, was such a day. Monday mornings can be a little rough on everyone, I'm sure, as lame as it may be to fall into that tired, Office Space cliche ("someone's got a case of the Mondays!"). Good news is that the boss is out of town. Bad news is there's a stonehenge of paperwork and To Do lists on my desk. But the banana is at the ready. When I need a few minutes, I can eat my banana. The banana = Time Out. I set it respectfully on my desk, where it shines a yellow beacon of anticipation in my face throughout the morning.

Then, it is time for the banana. I give it a nod, I refill my water glass, I shuffle some papers around. The telephone rings, I answer it, have to check the fax, have to confirm receipt, have to run back to my desk and look up a number, now I have to pee. And so on past lunch time. I type, I file, I dream about writing the dullest entry ever (ah, dream: Realized!)... Oh! My stomach's growling at me because I forgot about my friend the banana! Great, a reprieve! Here I come, banana!

Where are you, banana? I pick up all the papers from the desk, open and close all the drawers, open the kitchen cabinets, retrace my steps, check the bathroom, pick through some folders, look under my water glass (genius)... The banana, it has gone missing. What the- ? Commence re-sleuthing (including the folder picking, excluding the water glass move), no banana.

DAMMIT! Who stole my banana? Who is on staff at boss's house today? Would Errand Man have eaten my banana? He's been suspiciously refilling the fireplace logs for a while now. Where is Handyman? Curiously, he hasn't barged in to finger-maul my head at all today. Might Housekeeper be the culprit? In the ballroom with the candlestick? Who killed my banana? Of all the-

I look in my trash can. Crumpled at the bottom is a slowly browning banana peel. Seeing how Errand Man never sets foot in my office, Handyman is actually due in tomorrow, and Housekeeper avoids my trash can like it's the birthplace of the bird flu, I am forced to this conclusion: I must have mindlessly consumed the banana earlier in the day, then waded through my mental haze to dispose of the evidence. I spend about 5 minutes being greatly alarmed that somehow a banana found its way inside of me without my knowledge (there's a dirty joke in there somewhere. No really, I know it's kind of subtle...). And then I remembered I had other issues to mull over. Next item: How much time can I waste assembling my sandwich before I have to get back to all the worky work?

Happy Monday.

1 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

That was really funny. Great entry.

9:06 PM  

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