A few weeks ago I moved into a new office. It is shiny, and I got to buy an office chair. I felt like such a pimp. An office supply pimp.
With new offices comes new responsibilities. It also comes with a little bit of celebratory seven layer dip that I may have eaten half of before bringing to the office. While we have enough dip to last us until next Cinco de Mayo, what we don’t have is a copy machine. I need to make copies. I am a big deal. Plus, copies are important, vital to business, and something about the bottom line.
In order to make copies I have to venture across a street to my company’s original building. I could probably walk. I certainly could drive my car. But, that’s not how we new-office-dwellers roll. This is how we roll:
All of this is wonderful news, right? Yes, but let me get to the point. In order to
crash drive into the main building with this pimpmobile, you have to drive through an area that requires that safety glasses and a hard hat be worn.
If you have read Why I Am Here, you are getting an A+. I am not sure on what, but it’s an honor, okay? If you read it, you would also know that I don’t own a hard hat. “Sadly”. Today, that has changed. Today, I must edit every bio I have ever released into the wild of the internet (because they are all the same). Today, I am legit. Read the rest of this entry