Man. This week.
[Disclaimer: don’t read to #3 if you’re easily grossed out.]
1. My coworkers have learned a lot about me recently. Before Boston, probably two knew about my endurance addiction, or that I spend every waking second outside of this office working out, fueling to work out or resting to prepare to work out. When Megan secretly made me a giant “Good Luck in Boston” card and had everyone sign it, suddenly the word was out. I’ve had so many people ask about my race, say congrats, etc.
That’s all well and good, but then I brought my Felt in on Tuesday and left it against the wall in my office. I had to go to Bonzai after work and didn’t trust the bike in my car. I’d rather have it in my sight at all times. Thanks to some unexpected chaos (described below) I had a lot of people in and out of my office and therefore a lot of eyes on my slick wheels. Now a lot of people also know about my triathlon problem. I even spent a few minutes explaining clipless pedals and wetsuits — oh yeah, Xterra shipped to my work address — to my editor.
My favorite comment? “I don’t mean to be crass, but that must be a $5000 bike. Did you get a discount?” Well, PZ, it wasn’t quite that much, but thanks for asking.
2. The weather is making me so happy. I can go to the pool in the morning in running shorts and a T-shirt and ride without arm warmers and gloves. So much less effort. And it takes me back to last spring when I was just getting started with tris and loving every minute of it. I’m way more willing to drag my ass out of bed when I know I’m not going to freeze.
3. Tuesday was weird. We’re moving to a different floor in our building, and construction crews have been in and out for weeks prepping our space for the division of the company that’s moving in after us — painting walls, ripping up carpet, reconstructing cubes, etc. We were promised the disruption would be minimal.
I lucked into an enormous executive suite office — and am downgrading to a cube upstairs, which I can’t even talk about — and somehow the construction guys think it’s acceptable to make the floor in here storage space for whatever they can’t leave in the middle of the hallway. I walked in late last week to find my desk had been removed and replaced with a much smaller one and stacks of leftover carpet squares piled all over. No disruption my ass.
So on Tuesday I arrive and discover that all of my furniture has been pushed together into the center of the room. I can’t get to my desk because a filing cabinet and shelving unit are against it, and there are extra chairs all over the place, along with the plants we’ve been nurturing, more carpet squares and stacks of books and other junk. And there are nails and screws littering the floor.
I was super irritated but went to move the filing cabinet because my laptop was locked in the bottom drawer. Then I looked up and saw this:
Ignoring the fact that someone actually made a point of putting this thing in a cup rather than in the trash, EW. I’ve long been aware that there are mice living here — I have less than fond memories of jumping on my desk last summer while everyone gathered at my door and laughed at me — but to be faced with it like that was too much. I went storming down the hall, made a big stink and then had some choice words for our building manager. I left the mouse as it was because I knew no one would believe me if I didn’t.
So people were in and out to evaluate the level of destruction and see the mouse, and then these showed up:
The contractor — the building manager, who is in charge of all this construction, passed off the blame — came wandering in with major apologies for the mess and the mouse. His excuse? “I told them no one worked in this office.”
Ok, sir. Is that why there’s a computer on the desk, a nameplate on the door and a collection of shoes on the shelf? Because it looks to me like I STILL WORK HERE.
Anyway, I traded a mouse for a flower bouquet. And as my mom pointed out, at least the plant I received on my first day of work is still alive. Small victories.