After a week and a half of working from home I decided that it was time to go back into the office and reintroduce myself to my boss. I ironed my black linen pants and a favorite gold blouse that’s a good “end of summer and almost too late to wear white but still hotter than blazes” transitional piece, put on lipstick for the first time in two weeks, and filled a big cup of coffee in my travel mug to fuel my 20 minute drive to work.
And approximately 5 minutes before I got to the office, that big cup of coffee had somehow managed to find its way all down the front of my shirt.
Of course, I had just cleaned out my car over the weekend and removed the big roll of paper towels and every other scrap of napkin/absorbent material from under the seats.
I had a meeting to make and no time to run home and
iron change again, so I whipped into Target (thank you for opening early) and ran inside to see if there was anything that didn’t scream 16-year-old teeny bopper and would be work-appropriate. They had all their new season stuff out and I had plenty to choose from, but let me tell you, I’m not feeling the love for the fall fashion direction.
Dolman sleeves? With stripes? And RUFFLES?
Please say no.
My pants were kinda’ flowy so I needed a fitted top to wear with them and those were a little hard to come by what with the tunic look that seems to abound until I found a stand with $8 t-shirts and wouldn’t you know they were exactly what I needed so I grabbed a teal green one and changed in the Target bathroom and headed off to work feeling like Sharon Stone wearing her Gap sweater to the Oscars.
And when I arrived at work, the whole office was abuzz because everyone showed up to find they had a present on their desk.
That’s right, a plastic shoebox.
And I didn’t know what to do with my shoebox since there wasn’t a note attached so I set it aside and sat down and started to work. And after about six minutes I realized what the box was for because when I pivoted in my chair to throw the wrapper in the trashcan that for the last year has resided in the same spot under my desk, I realized that someone had removed it.
And when I asked my co-worker if she had borrowed my trashcan she informed me that in an effort to reduce the amount of trash collected at the office, all of our trash cans were removed and we’ve now been given shoeboxes that we’re responsible for emptying into “centralized collection points” throughout the building.
Because, clearly, the size of the receptacle has everything to do with how much trash we generate.
There are days I live in a Dilbert strip.
So I spent all day lowering my productivity because I was walking back and forth to the centralized waste collection site emptying my shoebox but at least I had on a cute outfit while I did it.
Have a nice day.