Mouthing off: jargon deciphered - noodle, offline, sidebar, inoculate, POD, pman; the correct company name when I answer the phone (even though I want to say the old one)
Noise, noise, noise: high hat notification on The Exotic's email (that drives me mad), dumpster emptying on Fridays, click-clack of the overhead fans, sonar beep of The Goofball's phone, music on The Rockstar's computer that I can barely hear but often sounds like electronica chanting at the end of the day
Taste buds: Peaches for fried chicken, green beans and mac & cheese (listed as a vegetable), chi-chi new dive by the art house theatre serving up overpriced prosciutto and grass clippings doused in olive oil, pastries from Black Forest Bakery, free(!) Maggiano's one day in ATL, only French vanilla creamer for coffee, Grape Laffy Taffy and Aztec Punch Starburst from the candy dish
Sniff: occasional chicken odor drifting from nearby poultry operation, stale sweat from the Dirty Film boys despite cooling weather, odd smell of cabbage in the ladies' which The Violinist and I determined was highly abnormal in the bathroom, old wood and machine oil from the freight elevator, Italian bistro cranking up for dinner every night when I leave
I Spy: my picture on the website (ick), other people reading Perez Hilton during the day, very drab blue background on the laptop I warily use each day, a growing number of folders on my desk containing information that I'm supposed to understand, three stalls in the ladies' but I will only use two of them - the third to me...well, it's just off limits for no apparent reason, red brick out the window, hope for me yet(??)
Friday, October 12, 2007
Getting a Sense After Eight Weeks
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4 cat calls:
that could be a prose poem. though i find the smell of a nearby poultry factory mildly disturbing...
i keep meaning to tell you that your profile on the company website is great!
Excellent -- can really feel what's happening, here. Now feel that I must check out your company profile to add to the "but you look wonderful!" vibe. Which, I'm sure you do.
yum, Black Forest bakery!
ah, yes, the smell of chickens, slightly disturbing, and yet, also. .nostalgic? Nothing says welcome home to the country like chicken coops, right?! Especially given your dad's old ties to the industry?
Yeah...if I told my dad that I could smell the chicken plant, he'd say, "Smells like money to me." :)
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