I worked late tonight. And my lunch was scant. I was hungry, tired, and stressed out and there didn’t seem to be much that I could about any of those things except try to get some of the work I needed to get done, well, done. So, I worked late. But fortunately so did the resident food pusher. Every office has one. The person who has all of their drawers filled with crackers, granola bars, trail mix, chips, candy, etc, etc and constantly wants to feed you.
Our food pusher is high energy also. The offer of food is usually long winded affair. She is friendly, open, knowledgable, giving and an accountant – so you can imagine how long the conversations last. I like her very much, but I don’t like having chunks of my day disappear while she describes rapidly and exceedingly in depth an open inventory investigation. There is really no “quick question” or “simple answer” with her.
So, hungry, tired, and stressed – the only one I could solve immediately was hunger. And it meant a visit to my food pusher. I hesitated for a moment – could I afford the time that mooching food from her would take? I have so much to get done. But my stomach and headache won out – I needed to eat before getting done to business.
I wandered over and announced “I’m hungry”. To her this required immediate action. Drawers were opened and and boxes thrust in my hand. But then – all activity stopped. She solemnly announced “We are going to have S’mores”. S’mores? In the office at 5:30 in the afternoon? That sounded involved so I politely began to demur, but it had already been decided.
She quickly pulled out here graham crackers (with a running commentary about the brands she prefers), grabbed her chocolate bar (a Hawaiian macadamia nut milk chocolate that her sister-in-law just brought back from vacation) and her bag of marshmallows (oh, dear, running low). Before I knew it, two s’mores sat on the paperwork on her desk. She handed them to me and said “Put these in the microwave for 9 seconds. When they get big and gross, they are ready”.
I held out my hands and the raw s’mores were placed in them. Then she said with a wrinkled nose “You washed your hands, right?” I am not sure what she thought I was doing before I arrived at her desk for food, but she was not pleased when I said “Well, no, not recently”. I supposed I looked clean enough to her because I was waved off.
I carefully held the booty and made my way to the lunch room. I entered 9 seconds as directed and watched the marshmallows puff up – enough so to knock off the top graham cracker. I quickly reassembled them worried that I would ruin the s’mores and returned to her desk for the long chat she so now deserved.
November 15th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: S’mores at work followed by Crispy Minis, grapes, and trail mix.
The Daily EO 
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