2007-10-24

Doesn't everyone love a giant box?

Yesterday morning I woke up in just about the foulest mood I've ever been in. Chew on that for a second. Let it digest. Because the good lord knows, some of y'all have seen me in some pretty bad states.

I woke up, and the whole world could get fucked sideways with no lube, as far as I was concerned. Murder, she was in my heart, Mama. I have NO idea why I woke up like this. It was really sort of terrifying. I seriously considered calling in "sick," because it honestly would not have been an UNtruth.

I looked at the houseboy and said, "I'm sorry. It's nothing personal, but I'm in a REALLY bad mood, and I think I probably hate you just a little bit right now." He just said, "Yeah. I figured." And bless him, he stayed far away from me and the billowing clouds of greenish, sulfur-smelling smoke spilling out of my ears. I don't think he even attempted a peck goodbye. Because after living with me for over ten years, the houseboy has an acute sense of my myriad character defects and the ways in which they tend to be rousted from their semi-dormancy. I've said it before, and I really cannot possibly overstate the matter: it is enormously taxing being married to me, even when I'm in a GOOD mood.

As the day wore on, I began to feel a little better, a little more human and a little less like a chupacabra. I believe that I was even downright docile by the time I got home. I slept pretty well, and this morning was more or less back to normal.

Today we got a new printer at work. I'm sure most of you out there in the FOR-profit sector are thinking, "And....?"

And NOTHING. It's just that we got a NEW printer. New as in: "nobody's used it before us." New as in NOT: "ABC Corporation LLC OMFG WTF got all new printers so we're giving you the old ones." This is a very big deal for us. It's about the size of a refrigerator. We call it The Death Star. My friend Adam and I have taken to humming the "Imperial March" every time we walk by it. I really don't think it'll ever cease to be funny.

Better still was the box that encased The Death Star. I am 37 years old, but there is that 6-year-old inside of me that gets pretty damn psyched about something like that. I ran into my gay boyfriend John Michael's office and squealed: "Didja see the box out in the hallway? I'll get in it and you can push me around! We can play TITANIC!"
"Mmhmm."
"What's the matter with you, John Michael?" I yelled. "Doesn't everyone get excited about a GIANT BOX?"

As soon as the words tumbled from my mouth, I was awash in regret.

John Michael just smirked. "Not really, dear. No."

lisamcc at 8:24 p.m.



1 comments so far
lj lindhurst
2007-10-25 09:24:06
This reminds me, have you ever read that Kobo Abe book, The Box Man? Ever read any Kobo Abe? The Face of Another? Woman In the Dunes? Something tells me you would really like these books, particularly given your quasi-sociopathic bent these days......ah, who the hell am I kidding. I just wanted to make a comment.
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