Thursday, December 01, 2005

my dog ate all my good material

I realize that lately my blog has been a little lean, and also a bit lame. Since I don't usually talk about work here I've neglected to mention that this is my "busy season," and currently I'm juggling a workload that might be manageable for two and a half fully capable professional artists. But for a lone, self-taught designer with the attention span of a fruit fly, it's proving too much to handle. In the last few weeks I've devolved into a snarling bitch around the office and a zombie at home, so mentally exhausted at night I can scarcely form one complete sentence, let alone string a few together into a cohesive anecdote.

The pressure at work has been building and yesterday I snapped, just briefly, and spent four and a half cathartic minutes under my desk in the fetal position, weeping into the collar of my peacoat. (My desk is awesome for hiding -- the front panel goes all the way down to the floor.) Afterward I felt much better and went back about my business. Things should ease up after today.

On an unrelated note: I was watching "Nature" on PBS last night (as I often do, since I chose a gym membership over Cable TV and there's not a lot to see on the networks these days), and I think this year for Hannukah I'd like a capuchin monkey. They're just so precious. Also they seem intelligent and dexterous, and I could really use some help around the house. I bring this up because live monkeys are apparently unavailable on Amazon.com and thus cannot be added to my wishlist. (An Amazon search for "monkey" turned up, among other things, Donkey Kong Country 3 for Game Boy and Anti-Monkey Butt Powder Anti-Friction Plus Sweat Absorber. Personally I'm a Johnson's baby powder girl, but I find the banana-yellow package design quite appealing.)

Actually I understand monkeys are not so easy to come by: I've got a friend who traveled through India and Asia after college. When I ran into his mother at a holiday party she told a shocking tale in which my friend's neck was slashed by a broken bottle in a Nepalese bar fight. "They missed his artery by this much," she said with her fingers pinched together. A couple years later I repeated this to the slashee and he said, "Jesus, why does she always tell that story? She never mentions that I managed to buy a car and drive all the way to China with a monkey in the passenger seat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a monkey?" Maybe it's just the way he said it, but every time I think about that conversation I laugh out loud. Indignation by itself is amusing; demanding respect for successful procurement of a primate -- to me, that's comedy.

13 comments:

Paulo said...

You had me at "monkey." Actually, you had me at "Anti-Monkey Butt Powder."

Before buying anything from them, though, I have to be sure about their politics.

Are they "Anti-Monkey" or are they anti "Monkey-Butt" (which I am assuming is similar to swamp-crotch)?

Who could buy anything from a comany that is anti-monkey?

... and I hate swamp-crotch.

Anonymous said...

It seems that the end of the year sparks a devolution in business beyond the usual means. There's been a lot of monkey business in my office as well...shit slinging, chest beating, unwanted buggery, and baring of teeth at the slightest offense.

I'll stop before I take the obvious tack of saying this'll make anyone go bananas. :) Oh, crap. ;)

Hope things get better for you as Hanukkah draws near!

Martin

P.S. The password verification word I was given for this entry was a hybrid of "Yoda" and "djinn." Beat that. :) It kinda reads as "Yo, DJ!" ;)

always write said...

Paulo, we have to assume the company has taken an anti-monkeybutt stance. Who could be anti-monkey? It'd be unAmerican. (I've never heard of swamp crotch... is that, like, a guy thing?)

Martin, I call your phenomenon "Happy F**king Holidays, that parking spot is my gift to you."

Snowflake Chaser said...

Oh, honey, what a place that office of yours must be! ;)

Otherwise, I've always wanted a helper monkey. One that can fetch me donuts. Though I don't even really like donuts.

Vixen said...

Oh boy! I guess tis the season for all kinds of monkey business.

Am I ever going to get on your blogroll?

The Daily Rant said...

How funny. When I first got on the road, I did a little snippet on Monkey Butt Powder in the "Trucking Log" I used to send to my friends and family (pre-blog).

They sell that Monkey Butt powder at almost every truck stop. How funny. Thank god I've never needed to buy it. I have neither Monkey Butt or Swamp Crotch....lol

And I am also a Johnson's Baby Powder girl....

Washington Cube said...

Sorry you are so bogged down with...life. I haven't got much to say about monkeys. I knew a girl who was given one as a Christmas present when she was 13. It died a month later. I was about buying Christmas cards in November and a preponderance of them had monkey imagery on them. I was rather puzzled by that. Are monkeys the rage now? I thought it was Butterstick.

Reya Mellicker said...

I like thinking about you curled up under your desk. I don't like thinking about why you ended up under your desk, but that you did it, even though I'm sure that's not part of your company's culture (or is it?). I like thinking that this made you feel better.

In stressful times, self-soothing primate behavior is really helpful.

the deal said...

As Steve and Ed from BNL said:
"Haven't you always wanted a mun-keY?"

always write said...

Deal, I had totally forgotten about that; What a great song.

Reya, when you put it that way, it's not an unrelated note at all.

Cube, monkeys are the new cats. Or something like that.

Rant, I'd assumed it was for exercise, but calloused cheeks from sitting make more sense. (Monkey Butt... you learn something new every day.)

Vixen, I don't have a blogroll. I guess it's time I got one.

Julie, find me a monkey that can make me a salad and I'll never ask for anything again.

Claire said...

I love the post of this title.

Also, I'd rather have a pygmy goat than a monkey. It wouldn't help me do laundry or anything, but it would keep the grass short.

Claire said...

Rather the title of this post... always just after I've hit publish I see these errors...

Adam F. said...

Actually, I think you are all thinking of crotch-rot. Swamp crotch simply doesn't exist. I am in medical school, and I know. Glad to be of help. And alwayswrite (do you use your real name on here? don't want to blow your cover)- yes, I didn't lose the napkin, and I do read your blog now. I like. A lot. Good stuff.