I am sitting in my cubicle with my coffee and my low fat yogurt, trying to get motivated to start this day. I hate this cubicle. It's like my cut off from the outside world. I have no windows, a face a wall that is made out of metal and covered with magnets that should be holding something important, I guess. Mine hold pictures of my husband and my dog. There are post-it notes all over one wall, left by the girl who sat here before me. I never took them down. I figure that if they were important to her, they might be important to me. Not yet, but maybe soon. This is the career that I have chosen, and I will one day enjoy it when I get out of this "Awefulcle" (what my friend, Amanda calls it). The girl in the cubicle next to mine plays her radio just loud enough for me to hear. It's some sort of "soft and easy favorites". Sadly, I think the most exciting part of the day just occurred. A roach as big as my head just crawled out into the open and, since there is only one man here right now, I enlisted him to kill it. Unfortunately, the roach won. Greg stepped on him and hit him with a box. The roach turned and faced Greg as if to say, "is that all you've got for me?" and ran behind my cubicle. I have been assured that he will go back there and die. I will be fine as long as he doesn't touch me in any way. I'm not one to run away from a spider or other reasonably-sized insect, but the roaches in Florida are enormous, and they fly! It's one of my worst nightmares.
So now I'm in my Awefulcle with my feet tucked up underneath me in my chair, waiting for this roach to pull on my pant leg and demand that I turn over my purse.
Why is Wednesday such a bad day of the week? Does it have middle-child syndrome?
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