A Case Study in Chaos Theory

So, loose just one unknown variable into your life and see what happens. Could be you notice no changes. Could be one day you look down at your arm and you think, maybe, maybe, that mole on your left wrist has scooched just a hair toward your hand. Maybe you notice that you have fewer pimples and a brighter smile, and are all around more Jessica-Simpson-after-ProActive-ish. Maybe you notice what appears to be a hairline fracture in the sky. A tear, small but significant, in the very fabric of your world. Probably damage done by all the wild careening that one unknown variable has done around your life.

Some people get a dollop of sunshine, a tidy little pleasure and luck package, wrapped in the CUTEST paper, when they go for the grab bag. You got the Dum-dum with the question mark on it. You hesitate. You know these are risky. It could be blue raspberry (oooooo, a rare blue one. Delightful, coveted). But, it could be root beer. You gamble anyway, you shouldn't have. You just KNEW it was a bad idea to let it ride on candy. You got a dud and there you been lettin' it ricochet around, wreaking havoc on your brain. You are officially open for business. The business of disaster.

Now you're broke, you have some sort of incurable infestation, you're soaked in urine, your job sucks, your room is freezing, your car is smooshed, your chin raw and scabby, your cat is dead, you've chewed a hole in your lip, and apparently anything good you have to say has fallen through it.

Drinking On the Job

It is not yet nine o'clock and here I sit, at my caramel colored, faux wood desk in my secluded, gray, windowless reception area, receiving no one (per usual) and in an even more gray mood. The phone rings on average 12 times each day, the entire two weeks I have worked at this startlingly lonely job, I have greeted three people on two separate occasions that were not employees. Most of the time, I just glare angrily at the poinsettia on my desk, to which I am morally opposed. Poinsettias are a useless, unfragrant holiday plant whose prices soar in December. Bah humbug

But, in the end, I am grateful for its presence. It at least partially blocks my normal view which is of a cheap wall clock set four minutes behind and a deeply upsetting pastel aztec-printed couch that is without doubt old enough to drive. It may even be old enough to drink, I would offer it some of my holiday mimosa, but I, contrary to the season, am feeling greedy. I may even be feeling mean. I may, halfway through my morning booze, feel lit enough to toss my champagne and orange drink beverage onto said sofa and laugh cruelly as it slinks to restroom, ashamed that the others at the party will think it is drunk and sloppy. I give the sofa the stink eye as it slouches away, head down. Pathetic.

I know my nasty spirit is exacerbated by how tiresome my job is. I have a knack for busy work, can take surprising pleasure in small, organizational, and boring tasks. But this tedium is a hell all its own. I have no tasks (not one!) other than to stay in place in my dimly fluorescent surroundings, not able to partake in merriment and camaraderie away from my too-low, dirty rolling chair. Left only to think. I can't even get on Facebook! Shock and horror, gasp and awe, certainly this is cruel and unusual. Left alone in a corporate wasteland, only my champagne and my increasingly scroogey thoughts to keep my company.

Who needs a window anyway, the only view for miles is parking lots.