Stuck on You


It’s getting to be that time of the year again. The time where the days are shorter and the nights are longer; the time where it was 11 degrees outside yesterday, but today is a scorching 43 and you’re content with that. Tucked away in the depths of your closets are the cargo jorts and bro tanks (thank, fucking, god) and out come the hoodies, jeans, and flannels. I’m usually stoked about this time of the year – as you can tell by the posted link – but there’s still one thing that drives me absolutely insane about the cold.

It’s not the fact I have to run out to my car in the mornings, toothbrush in mouth while toothpaste oozes out onto my shirt, to start it while I finish getting ready. Nor is it the fact I have to take back the jacket I bought five days ago, and have worn religiously since,  because the hip, young cashier never took the ink-thing off (it actually looks like something that belongs on the jacket, like, a compartment that holds the spool of wire I use to scale buildings at night, so I’ll probably keep it). It’s something even more annoying than someone giving you shit about wearing said jacket indoors, because SUPPOSEDLY IT’S NOT POSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE AND MAINTAIN THE PERFECT BODY TEMPERATURE TO BE COMFORTABLE WHILE WEARING IT INSIDE OF THE OFFICE.  GAAHHHHHH DAMN.

It’s the increase of static electricity in the air.

Holy shit.

Nothing is more annoying than pushing the hair out of your face and having it lay flat on your forehead. If this doesn’t happen to you, I’ll put it into perspective, you lucky little punk: you know when you pull your clothes out of the dryer and your sock is stuck to a pair of sweatpants? You then have to peel that sock loose with what seems to be as much force as prying the new Elsa doll out of the hands of a 5 year old girl? Yeah, consider my forehead Princess Elsa and my hair those tiny, somehow very strong hands. It’s the most uncomfortable feeling in the world.

And, to make matters worse, try taking off a sweat shirt/t-shirt without conducting enough static electricity to keep the whole Northern Virginia community lit. I bet you $50 doll-hairs you can’t do it. You’ll come out of that procedure looking like you stuck a fork in a socket. Then, you just feel like you’re being touched by some stranger in uncomfortable places. It’s not a fun feeling to have.

With my forehead being stuck in ECJ (Electrical County Jail) for most of the day, I decided to consult the most dependable doctor of the 21st century to find out why static electricity is worse in cold temperatures than warmer ones: the internet.

“The reason static is more problematic in cold weather is because of low humidity of the air. ‘Relative humidity’ (rh) is the percentage of moisture held in the air compared to the maximum it could hold at that temperature. So, 50% rh means the air has only half the amount of moisture it could hold. It turns out that static is promoted if rh drops below about 30%.”

Hmmm…seems pretty logical, and something I could have guessed if I had given it the time of day. But, here at my big boy desk job, I don’t have the time of day to think about that kind of stuff. Instead, I have to improvise. For instance, today I had to pour some of the water from my water bottle into my hands and run my hands through my hair to release my confined forehead from suffocation (the lengths I go to to maintain this beautiful head of hair I have). I probably came out of that situation looking like I took a Mexican shower at my desk. (Side note – there was some guy taking one of those in the bathroom at work yesterday. It was really weird and made me very uncomfortable when I went to wash my hands.)

My advice? I don’t have any. I’m still trying to come up with some, seeing as how I’m living this nightmare day by day. If you have any suggestions, I demand you tell me. Until then, I’ll just keep my water bottle near by.

Is it Spring yet?


Plastic Bag Bandit


You know those instances where you read something that happened to someone, or maybe even overheard someone retelling a story that makes you think, “hmmm…that would never happen to me”? Well, I frequent Reddit a lot, usually scanning over users answers to AskReddit questions, so this thought is always fresh in my mind.

A couple of weeks ago someone proposed the question “What are some simple work etiquette’s that most people just don’t get?” Now, being the Reddit professional I am (*cough* almost 30,000 karma points AND gilded by some kind stranger *cough*) I went with an answer that I figured people would react to the most**. My answer to this was along the lines of “if the food/drink in the fridge isn’t yours, don’t eat/drink it.” Pretty simple. It’s common knowledge and is an issue that should be brought up to the Office Kitchen Police Department (OKPD) if it ever occurs to you or a loved one, because you’re essentially stealing from someone. (I also racked up the karma points for that one!)

**Okay, I confess. I knew my response to this question would get a lot of upvotes, because the question gets reposted a lot, and I’ve seen the success the answer’s had in the past. You happy?

Anyway, something similar happened to me this morning when I got in to work, however it’s almost 10 times as sad; like, 9.7. Let me give you a little background before we dive in: last Friday I had some leftovers for lunch I forgot to grab from the fridge before I left, so when I came in Monday morning, new lunch packed, I saw my leftovers and figured I would eat that first before it got too old/gross. I did exactly that, and kept what I brought in for lunch Monday and ate it for lunch today (yesterday was a holiday). Following along? No? Cool, let’s move on.

I get into work this morning, go to the fridge to put what else I brought for lunch in my bag from Monday, but it’s nowhere to be found. I stand there, staring at an open fridge, just waiting for my lunch to magically appear before my eyes. Kind of like a young child hoping to catch a glimpse of Old Saint Nick on Christmas Eve: he sets up by the nice, cozy fire, waits, next thing he knows, it’s morning and he accidentally fell asleep and the presents are already there (damn it, kid, you’re lucky you’re cute). Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t as lucky as the cute little kid who woke up to presents. Did I wake up from my trance to my bag being in the fridge, brought by some mythical (yet totally real) human? No. I did not. It wasn’t there. I’m looking on every shelf, moving cans, bottles, even other people’s lunches around in search of my lunch. Then it hits me: someone stole my lunch. Shock filled every inch of my body.

After a few frozen minutes of “deer-in-headlights” look, I spot something that eerily looks like the sub roll I make my sandwiches with wrapped in aluminum foil. As I look closer, I also see the turkey and granola bar I packed Monday morning underneath it. Could it be? Did someone really steal the plastic bag I brought my lunch in?


Someone stole my plastic bag. Someone opened up the fridge, took MY food out of MY plastic bag and put it back on the shelf. Seriously? WHO THE HELL STEALS SOMEONE’S PLASTIC BAG?! The only way I’ll forgive whomever stole my plastic bag is if they tell me some stranger came in after I left for the day on Monday, holding a weapon they recently murdered someone with, and demanded a plastic bag to dispose of the evidence with (after they take me out to lunch tomorrow of course).

After minutes of anger and hatred raced through my veins, I put my chips on top of the rest of the ingredients of a hearty lunch and shut the door to the fridge. I’ve spent all of today plotting my revenge for whenever I find out who stole my bag. I’m thinking something along the lines of taking a screenshot of their desktop and making it their background, or tearing off all of the erasers on their pencils. Something that will leave them with the same feeling of shock and sadness I had when I realized we have a plastic bag bandit (remind me to trademark that) at the office, and they chose my poor, innocent bag as a victim.

Can you believe it? The audacity some people have nowadays…