The alarm clock went off well before dawn this morning. I may have uttered some "colorful" words before I crawled out of bed in search of coffee. It's not that I've spent the past few weeks sleeping in - far from it. But I haven't HAD to wake up so very early. Nor have I HAD to be dressed and out the door in the pre-dawn hours. So, to say the least, this morning was rough.
Luckily, I had brought my work laptop home during the long holiday so I was able to keep up with work. I also popped in a couple of times to deal with mail. But generally, the week before Christmas and the week after are usually so dead at the office that there wasn't much to keep up with - so I was able to return to the office without being buried; which was nice.
But going back into the office meant that I had to deal with people. *sigh*
I was having a conversation with a co-worker this afternoon when he mentioned our Holiday Treat
This is what prompted the conversation.
|Yes, those ARE disgusting, dirty dishes left over |
from THREE WEEKS ago!
These dishes, including the knife encrusted with solidified icing, is right in my sight line. My co-worker informed me that this came up while I was out with another co-worker. And that this co-worker said, "We aren't going to do anything with these dishes because when Gigi gets back, SHE will eventually get tired of looking at them and will take care of it."
Excuse me?! What?!
When I asked WHO had uttered this font of nonsense, he refused to say; probably because he was afraid I'd use the crusty knife on the perpetrator.
But here's the deal...I KNOW I'll get tired of looking at those dishes. BUT, I refuse to touch them. First of all because they aren't mine (WHY hasn't the owner come looking for them?!) and second, because REALLY?! I am not the maid or mother of this floor.
I then recounted the whole coffee saga to my co-worker, he doesn't drink coffee so had no idea. Since then, I have issued a fatwa on the break room. I have since bought my own coffee maker and refuse to monitor what is going on in there. Which means they are down to two carafes - one regular and one decaf. Since no one on this floor drinks decaf, someone wrote NOT DECAF on the decaf pot. Yes, it's total anarchy around here.
And because of this those nasty, disgusting, gross dishes will sit there FOREVER!
Eventually, someone else will get tired of looking at them and will throw them away...soon, I hope.