Modern Office Life, Take Two


There are times when the schmancy office building in which I toil suddenly turns into a dank, cold box, something out of Dickens. No explanation, no warning just suddenly I become aware that my hands are numb, my shoulders are hunched over and I am expecting to see my breath in puffy little clouds. That’s why earlier this year I marched my self right on over to Walgreens and bought a blanket. It’s a stylish grey and white plaid made of light weight fleece, but still, it’s a blanket. I never feel like such a frumpy old cliche of a civil servant as I do when I’m wrapped up in my blankie, typing. A blanket. Dear god, take me now.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

5 responses »

  1. You’ll have to fight off all those other bitches (hey joe!) who are always sniffing around here. I envision my future as a grouchy old fart shaking my cane at them and yelling “Get off my yard and away from the houseboys.”


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