It was a cramped quarter, roughly half the size of my bathroom at home, but nevertheless, it was one of the more desired spaces in the office because it had a window view.
As my boss led me to my new abode I felt a hushed envy rush over those poor souls I was passing by who were subjected to the dark grayness of a corridor cubicle. I had only worked there for several months and already I was being granted the coveted corner cubicle.
They barely knew me, but they hated me for my undeserving sunlight.
“This is where you will work now”, my supervisor offered in her quick, chirpy voice.
I quietly gloated at the view.
From the tenth floor, the Florida rays easily flushed over my future workspace, and, although the flat terrain did not offer much if you weren’t facing the …Read on

The other day my cell phone rang while driving in the car. It was my sister-in-law checking in from her home for our weekly updates. “Where are you?” she asked innocently, completely unaware of how I was about to spoil her day.”I’m in my car (pause), on the way to the beach (bigger pause), for a picnic” (cut-the-air-with-a-knife pause).Now, I love my sister-in-law. Not only is she one of the few sane, grounded members in my husband’s family, she is a really nice, sane, grounded member whose company I greatly enjoy. Over the years we have become, not just family, but close friends. Still, I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t get a teensy bit of pleasure out of doing this to her. You see, she lives in Omaha, Nebraska.Don’t get me wrong: …Read on

It all started simply enough, as, I suppose these things usually do and then quickly and sloppily exploded into its own life force, as, I suppose, these things usually do. A subtle vibrating of my cell phone and that was it. I was lost, irrevocably, hopelessly lost. Only I didn’t know it yet. Up until then my cell phone had only been for, obtusely enough, phone calls. I stared at its tiny frame in complete confusion. Was that a missed voicemail message? Did I change my ring tone? The unfamiliar noise gently prodded me to poke around the menu of my ancient Nokia to see what else lay within its neglected screen. The icons glistened with excitement as my clumsy fingers roughly navigated over them in a desperate attempt to solve the …Read on

If you are wiser and healthier than me, you landed yourself the smarter role of arriving to someone else’s Thanksgiving feast relaxed, excited, clean, and hungry; oblivious of the five-day cooking frenzy lunatics who offer to host the event subject themselves to. Don’t get me wrong, and, please, don’t feel bad here, we beg to do this. Some of those who are sicker than others (I won’t name names), fantasize about it, lying awake months before dreaming of stuffing and basting turkeys, mashing potatoes, and throwing marshmallows on whatever we can get away with. Most of us that fall in this category are the real die-hards that insist on preparing the entire meal from A to Z. It’s kind of like a Bruce Willis meets Martha Stewart. This obsession is a drug and I am brave …Read on