So, whether this is what you (and by you I mean the 1 or 2 people who actually read this nonsense) want to read or not, this is what you're getting for right now. We've moved offices, just down the street from the old digs, and it's a brand new building, damn nice, and I will be getting a new computer and perhaps even a new flat screen monitor, but I can't help mention a few lovely quirks of our new abode. We are the first office to move into this building, and let me tell you, the 31st and 32nd floors of the Nakatomi Towers might have been more finished. To get into the building, I need to push two chain links fences apart and squeeze through like the chubby friend you sent into the old man's backyard to get your only baseball back when you were 10. I've found one elevator that works, usually completely loaded with office furniture and movers who look like they're one parole violation away from returning to Sing Sing. Yes, I know what you're thinking - take the stairs you lazy shit. Ah, no chance people, but thanks for the advice. Walking through the staircases fills your lungs with more fumes than Ricky Williams watching the cartoon network (I know, couldn't I have come up with a better Ricky weed reference - No, I'm lazy). My office looks like a 5 star Homeless Hilton (there's a Nicky or Paris joke there somewhere), boxes just piled everywhere, mainly because our bookshelves never found their way 150 feet down the street from the old office. I do want to thank the new building for helping me lose weight though - yesterday, about noon, the heat came on. Think about that one for a sec. August in DC, cluttered office, and the heat comes on. The heat, people. By 2pm I felt like Marlon Brando at your local Golden Corral (insert any buffet you would like). Overall, love the new digs, but it's past noon and my thermostat is again rising faster than Chris Berman's cholesterol level (I think all posts now require a shot at ESPN - thanks to Whitney for joining the fight).
No comments:
Post a Comment