Screws Fall Out All The Time

"Screws fall out all the time, the world is an imperfect place" - John Bender, The Breakfast Club

Should I start putting movie/tv/music quotes on my blog entries?  Anybody?  Anybody?  Bueller??

Yesterday I sat down in my desk chair here at work and it gave up.  I swear I heard it sigh and say "fuck this"...and then a screw fell out.  Don't worry, I was in no mortal danger, but I was leaning noticably to the right, looking silly and inspiring absolutely NO confidence in my professional abilities as I tried not to fall over.

My boss, bless his heart (I have seriously won the boss lottery) flipped my chair over and tried to put the screw back in for me.  It went in sort of sideways and begrudgingly.  And dang if it didn't fall back out again!  So this morning, as Bossman fixed it yet again, he mentioned that if the screw continued to pop out he has a product at home that would pretty much permanently glue the screw in place.  No smartypants, the product is not called glue.  But the name does escape me.  Let's just call it screw fixer stuff.

So when the screw popped out for the third time I carried it in to Bossman's office.  At this point the filter between my brain and my mouth, clogged up by stress and cold medicine, went entirely on the fritz and I said to this churchgoing father of five who holds my career and earning potential in his hands, "Want a screw?".  Go ahead, say it out loud.  See the problem?  Yeah.

I proceeded to make things worse by babbling (shocking, I know) "Wait...I mean 'DO YOU want A screw?'  This thing here.  DO YOU??  Um...wait...." (I leave the room, and come back in) "Hey this screw fell out can you bring that stuff in?  Um ....  please?" 

I'm still here, I'm not fired yet, proof that my boss lottery theory totally holds water.

So as I sit here in the receptionist's discarded office chair I am thoroughly embarrassed.  Downright humiliated.  In spite of the fact that I'm pretty sure it's unlikely if not impossible that my heft could cause a screw to run for dear life, its escape plan foiled only when it hit the floor and failed to sprout legs, I am convinced that every single one of my coworkers is quietly snickering because the fat chick broke her chair. 

First, you have to understand that I work in an office of thin people.  Of the nine of us, three are rail thin, possibly medically underweight and struggling to gain.  Four are at a perfect, healthy weight.  My boss and I are both perpetually dieting.  I feel judged here, more than anywhere else, which is saying a lot. 

I lost 86 pounds and was at a healthy weight for about 15 minutes in the late 90's and I remember one of the best things about that was being able to eat in public without feeling like people were watching me and thinking "Well THAT'S why she's fat".  I actually had a friend tell me, when I was at my highest weight, "You eat like a bird".  Yeah, right....in FRONT of you I eat like a bird, then I go home and curl up inside a bag of chips.

But really, and here is where I need you to pay attention because I'm going to introduce a fairly far-out concept here....I am NOT the center of the universe.  Soak that in.  Go ahead.  I know it's rough.  It took me a while to process too.  The theory is that while we are all in a snit worrying about what people think about us, those same people are equally snittified worrying about what WE think of THEM.  Can you imagine?  All this WORRY???  If only we could harness all that wasted energy and do something practical with it.  Like exercising and cooking healthy meals so I wouldn't have to be embarrassed about my weight!!

Yeah....do as I say, not as I do, mmkay??

Today's lunch: Amy's Vegetable Lasagna and grapes.