Friday on the production floor.....

Yes, I realize it is in fact Saturday, but the events of Friday must not go unchronicled. (From here on out, I will be writing this post as if it is still Friday.)

Anyone who has ever had the misfortune of working for any type of quality department knows the horror that surrounds a quarterly QSR. You're mind will beg for mercy from the hours of mind numbing pointless facts that are thrust upon you and the 20 other people who sit around the conference table and listen upon speaker phone from their facilities half way across the country from us. Escaping with your sanity is a universal goal we all strive to achieve, some will, some find themselves curled into a ball rambling in the corner. So far, I have been among the lucky ones.

Somehow managing to make it through the meeting without crawling out of my skin, I make my way back to my desk with the absolute worst headache. My head is throbbing with each heartbeat, my eyes literally feel as though they are bulging from my sockets.

"Hey, girlfriend, how'd the meeting go?" Sophia is cheerful, I'm wondering if the Water Boy came in today to test the water.

"Oh My God! I didn't think I would make it out alive. My head is still killing me," rubbing the back of my neck, I just want to die.

"Here, I've got half a vicodin, it'll take the edge off that headache. You can have it," thank the lord, there IS a Santa Claus, I think to myself. Sophia holds out her arm, half a pill is laying in the center of her outstretched hand. Placing my TV dinner lunch in the microwave, I run to the water fountain to gladly take the pill.

30 minutes later the headache was gone, but The New Guy was out of class and standing by my desk asking me if I'd watched 'Grey's Anatomy'. Am I crazy, or, is he the only man alive that watches these kinds of shows?

As the conversation had progressed, so had the topic. The next thing I know, The New Guy is talking about his dog sleeping in his bedroom, jumping up and down on his bed, and Sophia is standing behind him, mouthing the words "He probably has sex with his dogs".

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, and he had no clue what I was laughing about. The look on his face was priceless. He knew I was laughing at him, yet he stuck around anyway. I just don't get the guy.

That's probably a good thing.