Monday morning, I came to the office and it was gone. So was the only torch lamp in the office that provided any substantial illumination during the morning hours. Boxes of documents, my stationery holder, and my candles were all about the floor. I'm all, "What the hell?" Later, the Great Man said, "Oh, TL, I'm sorry! I was setting up my home office all weekend. Me and the movers were here until all hours of the night! Oh, don't worry, I'll get you a replacement later today."
Well, that replacement didn't get here until today. And when it came, it looked like this:
Now, if you're like me, and I know I am, you're saying to yourself, "Damn. That thing is fug-lee, dude."
You can't tell in this picture that the stain has worn off the top in two locations, because of the banker's box of documents I've put on top of this monstrosity. It's made out of nothing but two-by-fours. And it's short, too. The top of this alleged credenza (I'm thinking "bench" would be a more appropriate word) is as high as my knee. The crossbar on bottom prevents me from storing any of my banker's boxes underneath it, as I could with the piece that the Great Man appropriated for his home office.
And I still don't have a replacement lamp. It's dark and foreboding in my office in the mornings now. Much like my mood at work. It would give me more pleasure than I think is strictly professionally appropriate if I could sacrifice this new "credenza" to the Fire Gods. But if we can't even get plastic fucking spoons in the office, I should count myself pretty damn lucky to have furniture at all.
2 comments:
He just took the credenza away? I can't believe it! So is that thing in the picture the final "replacement"? That really stinks!
Thank you, for convincing my wife to be, that a Credenza isn't a fucking plant.
I will forever be in your debt.
Post a Comment