Ring Around the Hallway

I work in an office building with the standard layout; the elevator is in the center of the hallway forming a square column. It’s a five story building with perhaps six to ten suites on each floor depending on the size of the business.

I have twelve suitemates and lately they’ve been grumbling about the goings on in the hallway. You see the restrooms flank the elevator one on either side. It appears that there a couple of women of Asian descent who circle the hallway three times a day. You can set your clock by their walks. Militant strollers we have coined them.

Generally how one wants to stretch their legs on any given day should not be an issue. However, these women who are small in stature walk side by side which would also not be odd except that they are on their cell phones chatting up a storm. It has been determined by my suitemates that one may be conversing in Mandarin and the other Vietnamese. (Apparently, I work with linguists, who knew?) The point is this; they are so engrossed with their conversations that they are unaware of the traffic jam they create. They move rather swiftly on their rounds however if you encounter them at the entrance of the restroom they do not yield the right of way. This is causing great discord for the entire floor.

Once while waiting for the elevator they passed me ten times. I’ve watched the group of engineers also with offices on the floor try to suggest that they walk single file to no avail. I have decided that this is their way of retaliating against perhaps a smoker who gets a few breathing treatments in per day. Others in my office are dying to know why they simply do not exercise outdoors. For some reason we are reluctant to ask. Perhaps it is because none of us speaks either Mandarin or Vietnamese.

The quandaries of life such as they are, I have altered my restroom times. I don’t have the energy to dance with the militant strollers. Suggestions anyone?

The Greatest Casualty is Being Forgotten

Freedom Is Not Free

I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud,
He'd stand out in a crowd.
I thought how many men like him
had fallen through the years.
How many had died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom is not free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night,
when everything was still
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
with interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington...
No, freedom is not free.


Author Unknown

Forgive Me Blogosphere...

...It has been two weeks since my last post. What can I say, the weather definitely affected my mood? I could serve penance. Instead I’ll give you a brief recap of life in the land of Wicked.

* Recently, The Troll appeared in our office. Fortunately for her, our receptionist had not a clue as to her identity. I am sure her balloon was deflated but don’t you worry, she’ll be back to visit.

* I have learned of the passing of a treasured Uncle of very close friends of our Family. When they hurt, we hurt. “P” my heart is heavy for you and the entire family - hugs.

* Also, a work friend is watching her young daughter slowly pass before her eyes. The fact that the whole scenario is happening and that I can do nothing to ease her pain, breaks my heart.

* Pet Whisperer and Fly Boy are making progress on the retirement home. I am well aware that I may have to bail them each out for committing felonies against the builder and his wife, the decorator. On the upside, once the waterfront castle is built, I have my own master suite. Yay!

* Google, Little Wicked’s golden doodle, committed rabitcide. He thought it was a play toy wandering in his yard and it met an untimely death. Google reported that the rascally rabbit tasted more like chicken.

* Little Wicked is graduating from Middle School and on her way to High School. OMG!

There you have it, some ups and downs. Instead of reciting Hail Mary’s I am going to whip up a batch of martinis and hope the bad things come to an end soon.

How’ve you all been?

Wanted: Crew to Help Build Ark

Enough already! Rain, you are killing me.

I keep humming the theme to “Annie” but it is not working.

I am gathering animals two by two. Needed second emu.

If not available, please send sun!