I Hate Meeces To Pieces!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 08
I Hate Meeces To Pieces!

Well, in the immortal words of Ferris Bueller, “Life goes by pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Right now, the “take time to enjoy things” meaning of that quote is lost. These days, in MY life, the other meaning rings true: Life changes and it changes quickly. Life is always in a constant state of flux. I’m sure yours is and I know, indubitably, that mine is.

Sometimes life's changes seem obviously good, other times they feel clearly bad. I don't think that you actually know on which end of the spectrum any given life change is until you have had time to chronologically, psychologically and emotionally distance yourself from it. Hell, you may not even know how good or bad a change was until you are sitting in the ever-after reading through the chronicles of your life.

08-02-2010

Hell, I started the above blog several weeks ago and that was as far as I could get on it. I know it sounds stupid as all get out, but I just cannot seem to put down on the screen what I am feeling inside. It is all because of that damned jump drive being lost. It must have been my writer’s trigger; and without it I am just shooting blanks. It is so damned lame that I cannot seem to function without it. I am using the same computers, the same blogging site, the same damned mind, but without that jump drive in the mix I just sit here and stare…

Anyway, today at the office there was a ruckus in our production room. One of the designers came in to the sales room asking for one of our cameras. It seems that the wee little mouse that had recently made one of our walls his home was coming out to take bits of the D-Con we had left out for him and she wanted pictures of “Mr. Jingles.” That’s his name evidently; another mouse already took the name “Danger”. (Side bar: we don’t hate animals – we just cannot have a rodent infestation)

Several of us scrambled into production to try and catch a glimpse of Mr. Jingles. Sure as shucks, even with all of us crowded around his corner by the back door, Mr. Jingles brazenly scurried back and forth between the D-Con and his little hole. (tee hee: little hole) He even seemed to stop and pose every once in a while. We were all sooooo excited to see him. I am sure many of us also actually felt a bit bad inside knowing we were slowly killing him – even though he seemed fit as a tiny fiddle.

Then our General Manager came in! Don’t worry. He is as much of a child as the rest of us are, if not more so. Of course, he was also quite excited to see Mr. Jingles. As we all giggled and laughed at Mr. Jingles’ antics, the GM decided to go over and see if his hole (chortle) was leading outside or into the dividing wall between offices.

He took out his flashlight (yes, he always has one with him) to get a better look and was distracted by some yarn and something shiny. He bent over to grab the shiny object and held it up for all to see… it was my damned jump drive! Holy Crap! It was not two and a half feet from Mr. Jingles’ hideaway.

I was shocked. In fact, I think we were all blown away. The GM said he wanted a reward, so I pantomimed something with him that can’t be written here: just let your imagination run filthy and you will probably figure it out. We all laughed and my jump drive was returned to me.

When the jump drive was lost on June 24^th of this year (that is the last day I used it), several of us tore the offices apart. My work wife told me that she and others even looked back there and had found nothing. We pulled out desks, moved boxes, shuffled papers and anything else you can imagine and were unable to find what our GM happened upon rather easily (maybe that is why he is President of Search & Rescue). The jump drive wasn’t even really shoved up against the wall or under anything or even tucked discretely behind something. So, only one thing can be certain: my jump drive was stolen then left there so it could eventually be found.

Mr. Jingles is a jerk! I cannot believe he would take it in the first place, but to toy with me like that is just downright mean! I thought I had lost my mind and could no longer be trusted with any item smaller than a shoebox without losing it. Stupid mouse! He probably got hantavirus all over it! Little flea-ridden varmint!

Aw, whom am I kidding? I can’t be too mad at him. At least he finally returned it to me safe and sound before he died.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS Thanks for finding it, Vic! I owe you lunch. You like value menus, don’t you?