Desk Fat
If you don't know who or what someone or something is, click the little [?] next to his/her/its name. Does working make you fat? Instead of sitting down for a half hour at an appointed time and eating my lunch, I tend to spread food consumption throughout the day, so that I'm just sitting at my desk, eating one snack after another, for eight hours and listening to hip music. This, coupled with the fact that I don't like to leave my desk (Nelda lamented today that I've "been talking about going out for stamps for two weeks;" I'm sorry, I just have too much to do), is leading to visions of myself, ten years hence, unable to stand because enormous fatty outgrowths of my flesh have wrapped themselves completely around my very comfortable chair.
Signs are troubling. For instance, I've noticed that when I sit down, I let out this too-satisfied sigh, like I've been waiting years to settle into the high-backed, cushiony glory that is my chair. What's up with that? No one should be that happy to sit down. It's not like I've been tramping through the desert for forty years; all I did was walk to the microwave and back. Jeez.
I can't help it; I've fallen in love with the womblike comfort of my desk. Equipped with Google, email, iPod, photos of loved ones, and all the Scotch tape and Post-its that I could want, it is everything I need in the world. Why should I leave, ever?
Is this not the saddest thing you've ever heard?
Okay, I'm kidding... sort of. I'm still happier on a couch, or in a tree, or on a train, or on a bike, than I am at my desk, wondrous as it is.
But this chair is really comfortable.
Hmm... maybe I should buy this book:
Hahahahahahaha.
--eve host
Last five entries:
Home Again - Wednesday, Aug. 18, 2004
Nashville Math - Friday, Aug. 13, 2004
Nashvillians - Thursday, Aug. 12, 2004
Nashville Tomorrow - Tuesday, Aug. 10, 2004
Weekend Again - Monday, Aug. 09, 2004