Life imitating art.

Apologies in advance for the extraneous use of air quotes.

I'm back to living Office Space.

Exhibit A: I have "TPS reports."

Exhibit B: The other day, it was 5:00pm on the dot, I was waiting for my "program" to "compile" so I could head out the door, and the boss called to ask if I had to leave right away or if I could chat for a few minutes. A few minutes turned into 30. I couldn't help but laugh.

Exhibit C: My "flair" at work so far consists of this baby (only I have Captain Bogg and Salty's version, which is apparently not available online), plus this baby, plus a little art project I did during one of the mandatory fun day events. I used to decorate the hell out of my space at work, even designating a space for pictures of "places I'd rather be." My cube is really depressing right now. Part of me wants to put forth more effort, but the rest of me just doesn't care at all what the buttons say.

However! My red Swingline stapler is prominently featured on my desk. At least one person has said, "oh wow, red Swingline. Office Space?" I immediately knew we were going to be friends. I was right.

As long as we don't move back to living Fight Club, I think I'm OK with all this. Boxing class is fun and all, but... OW.