Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Chiberia, and Other Things They are Trying to Make Happen
So my office actually closed yesterday, which was amazing and unexpected news. I never thought getting a voicemail from my boss at 11 PM on a Sunday would end up being a good thing. We were just finishing off a rather accidental viewing of Poltergeist III when the phone rang. (Incidentally, I'm not saying Poltergeist III is the worst movie ever made, but I'm also not saying it isn't the worst movie ever made. There's a lot of screaming Carol Anne's name involved. It did introduce the world to a young Lara Flynn Boyle, though, so it definitely understood something about unmitigated evil.) I didn't answer, of course, because I didn't recognize the number, and then I got the best voicemail in the history of time! Break out your sweatpants and off-brand Cheetos; office closed!
Today there was no such luck, however, and it turned out that the cold was a lot less charming when I wasn't just standing in it for five minutes trying to unfreeze my mailbox so I could access the copy of Entertainment Weekly I was just certain was inside. I'm pretty sure parts of my face fell off during the two block walk from the train to my office. (It wasn't until later that I remembered that I could just wrap my scarf around my face, which had the added bonus of making me look super hardcore.) And my office itself was even cold. Given that last year I had to pretty much swear off sweaters since my occupational sauna was putting pit stains in all of my cashmere, this is really something. But anyway, I made it through the day and am back in the sweatpants, where I plan to stay as long as possible.
I guess at least strangers in elevators now have something to talk about. Their comfort is always my first and my foremost concern.
So my office actually closed yesterday, which was amazing and unexpected news. I never thought getting a voicemail from my boss at 11 PM on a Sunday would end up being a good thing. We were just finishing off a rather accidental viewing of Poltergeist III when the phone rang. (Incidentally, I'm not saying Poltergeist III is the worst movie ever made, but I'm also not saying it isn't the worst movie ever made. There's a lot of screaming Carol Anne's name involved. It did introduce the world to a young Lara Flynn Boyle, though, so it definitely understood something about unmitigated evil.) I didn't answer, of course, because I didn't recognize the number, and then I got the best voicemail in the history of time! Break out your sweatpants and off-brand Cheetos; office closed!
Today there was no such luck, however, and it turned out that the cold was a lot less charming when I wasn't just standing in it for five minutes trying to unfreeze my mailbox so I could access the copy of Entertainment Weekly I was just certain was inside. I'm pretty sure parts of my face fell off during the two block walk from the train to my office. (It wasn't until later that I remembered that I could just wrap my scarf around my face, which had the added bonus of making me look super hardcore.) And my office itself was even cold. Given that last year I had to pretty much swear off sweaters since my occupational sauna was putting pit stains in all of my cashmere, this is really something. But anyway, I made it through the day and am back in the sweatpants, where I plan to stay as long as possible.
I guess at least strangers in elevators now have something to talk about. Their comfort is always my first and my foremost concern.
