Sabotage

As a new employee, I’m pretty much the lowest in the pecking order of our company’s accounting department. So I’m used to doing unpleasant task. So, it didn’t surprise me when my boss asked me to go talk to the advertising department director and sort through a slight discrepancy in their report. The director hadn’t been responding to my bosses emails and our monthly balances were coming up.

What was shocking, however, was what I found in the directors office. The director was half-asleep in his chair surrounded with at least two and a half days worth of donut boxes, brown bags and soda cans. I rapped on the door and he roused himself. I relayed the problem to him. He looked up that day’s accounts and within five minutes, printed out a copy that fixed the problem.

Harrowing Halloween

I didn’t always hate Halloween.

Up until the time I was eight, it was one of the few social activities I enjoyed. This was rather to the chagrin of my mother who was faced with the chore of coming up with an plus-sign costume when I was six, the pi-symbol costume when I was seven, and finally a ruler costume when I was eight.

Mayhem at the Museum

There is a museum six blocks away from my house. I like it. Unlike what I have seen of most of the world, the museum is a place of order. The windows are always washed, the doors are all either open or automatic so you don’t have to touch them, and no one pays attention to you.

Being in a museum is a powerful feeling, like being invisible or a ninja or both.

One day, however, there was a new traveling display and the collection’s centerpiece-- a huge and garish modern painting-- was slightly askew.