Words and Thoughts: Just All Elbows and Gel Pens

Hello again, alleged readers. I was talking to my buddy, the ski-ball pro, and as he was talking about whether tomatoes and ketchup on a burger is a redundancy, I got to thinking: I don’t think I like going to work. It used to be a place of wonder and joy. I could walk in, get the phone number of our biggest client, and call them directly to get their opinions on important stuff like, “Is Brandon Flowers Mr. Brightside, or is Eric Roberts Mr. Brightside? Or are they both symbolic components of a yet to be whole Mr. Brightside?”

Now though, it’s less wonder and joy, and more jonder and woy. I know those aren’t words. But don’t sit there and act like “jonder” and “woy” don’t convey more or less the opposite of wonder and joy. Times are changing. I used to look forward to Microwave Fire Tuesdays and Combine All the Lunches in the Fridge Using the Garbage Disposal Wednesdays… but now the breakroom kitchen is indefinitely closed for repairs or some other lame excuse.

Jonder here, woy there, anything good is nowhere at work.

It’s gotten so bad, yesterday my boss walked by, saw me playing tic tac toe against myself in Microsoft Paint, and then asked me what I was working on.

Are you kidding me? What does it look like I’m working on?? Tic tac toe on Microsoft Paint. Obviously. How can I possibly be managed by someone so clueless? How can I be expected to be led by such incompetence? How can I be expected to follow such stupidity?

I can’t.

I don’t know what to do instead. I’m gonna have this massive void in the three to four hours a month when I’m usually at work. And I’m gonna have to fill that void. I just don’t know how. How do you fill voids? So far I’ve brainstormed the following ideas:

· Collect grape seeds to try and find one bigger than a peach pit to disprove the so called “scientific theory” that peach pits are bigger than grape seeds.

· Buy gel pens.

· Steal gel pens.

· Trade gel pens for cash.

Fax other ideas to the usual number, please.

Speaking of scientific theories: How do you know it’s your elbow? I suppose I should clarify. How do you know it’s your elbow? Like when you look at your elbow, how do you know it’s an elbow, and that’s it’s yours. I can hear you thinking, “well Stav, you just look at it, if it’s an elbow, and if it’s attached to you, it’s your elbow”. And while I can understand your sentiment, I’m saying if I showed you a picture of an elbow, you’d be hard pressed to identify it as yours. And then regarding the matter of whether or not it’s an elbow at all… conceptually, we all understand what an elbow is. Maybe what I’m really asking is: what an elbow isn’t.

Again, please fax your ideas to the usual number.

What isn’t an elbow? If it is an elbow, is it yours? In like 200 years, will it be that it was your elbow? I mean at that point, what is the conscious sense of self, and beyond the end of one’s own consciousness, what then is the sense of self at all, and most importantly, whose elbow is it then?

I don’t know man, maybe I should try going back to work.