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Effortlessly Average

Sort of half-heartedly leading the charge into mediocrity since, oh, let's say around 1987 or so.

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Location: Roaming (additional charges may apply), Argentina

Proof that with internet access and a powerful laxative, even insipid people will blog; the place where your excellence and my mediocrity collide; where my Karma whips ass on your dogma.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Why I Choked On My Drink

Right from the start you need to know that I'm a guy. That info will be relevant in a moment.

I used to work in a high stress, open-office environment. My finance group tended to be the final step in the budget process from hell, so whenever someone was late with their estimates, it meant we stayed till midnight to produce trivial figures for the meaningless budget demanded by an unforgiving sychophant boss. Many raging battles were fought with various fatigue-related pains.

On one particular night I had the mother of all stress-induced headaches when I remembered that Karen, one of my counterparts, kept a bottle of Tylenol in her top desk drawer. I eagerly went to check and yep, there was the sweet solution to my pain in all it's little plastic glory. So I popped open the bottle and popped a few pills like a crack addict getting his fix. Headache gone.

The next morning I overheared her talking to Lucy, another person in our group.
Karen: "Luce, did you get into my desk yesterday or this morning?"
Lucy: "No, why?"
Karen [holding up the Tylenol bottle]: "Cuz I think someone took some of my Midol pills."

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