It's a Beautiful day...

It was a beautiful day. The Sun was shining bright and the sky was spotless blue far as the eye could see. The flowers swayed in the gentle breeze and the sparrows chirped happily as they flitted between the trees. In short, it was a perfect day. But this is not the story of that day. This is the story of a day that makes you wonder why you ever got out of bed in the first place. In fact, my sentiments were quite along those lines when I woke up in the morning. It was a monday morning and that meant I could look forward to the excitement of a week of work!!! Yahoo!!! (for those who haven't caught the sarcasm yet, you don't know me very well, do you?) I had this sudden impulse to call my project manager lady and tell her that I'd fallen down the stairs in my eagerness to get to work and broken my neck... and wouldn't be in for the day... no, week... or better still, rest of my life!!! It was with some difficulty that I managed to restrain myself and abandon the comfort of my bed, feeling bluer than ever. To add to my misery, I realized that my right hand was hurting pretty bad, probably on account of my having fallen asleep on it sometime during the night as I dreamt happy dreams that didn't involve mondays or work or project manager lady.

I wasn't feeling much better when I got to work and then things went downhill pretty rapidly. My day at work got off to a most inauspicious start and I realized as much when the first person I bumped into at the office happened to be none other than project manager lady. Forcing a smile onto my lips that belied my tortured interior, I cheerfully enquired about her weekend and then carefully steered the conversation to the topic of my application for leave on thursday and friday. Now let me give a background on this leave application. I had applied for leave a month in advance to attend the wedding of a close friend of mine, at which time project manager lady had conditionally approved the leave... the condition being, "provided there's no critical work assigned to you...". Now, back to the present.... When I brought up the topic of my leave, project manager lady uttered a cry that can best be described as a sound somewhere between the croaking of a frog and the crowing of a crow. That was followed by a few more sounds that I find impossible to describe with my limited vocabulary and she concluded her extraordinary response with a "Let's talk about that." For a man on the edge, I showed remarkable composure as I controlled the homicidal urges that were steadily building up inside me. The prospect of leave was what had kept me going on this morning of despair and the lady was threatening to extinguish the faint ray of hope that the leave represented. What kind of sick and crooked world was I living in?... aargh!!!! I tore myself away from my melodramatic thoughts and retired to my desk before my will gave way rendering the lady, Late project manager lady. The pain in my hand had now spread to my shoulder and my head was beginning to spin from the response I had just received.

As the day dragged on, I began to feel more and more like a man who had seen the rise and fall of civilizations... wise and solemn. Ok, not quite that but I was beginning to feel like a man whose body hurt with old age and whose tired bones had seen better days. Thus feeling, I visited the restroom and upon satisfactory conclusion of business prepared to return to the confines of my cube. It was then that I realized that the zipper of my trousers had given way and if immediate corrective action was not taken, the question "Boxers or briefs?" would be rendered rhetorical in a bit. I tried to force the zipper into position and quickly realized that restoring the zipper to its full functionality would not be among the solutions to my predicament. My poor head was already spinning pretty fast and this latest calamity was the proverbial last straw on the camel's back.... my head, in this particular case. The only solution I could come up with in my current state was to pull out the portion of my shirt that was tucked into the trousers and hope that it adequately shielded the accident. I proceeded to do the needful and realized to my horror that the shirt, at full stretch, ended just short of the bottom of the zipper. I realized that I was no match for this disaster of epic proportions that was staring me in the face and that these desperate circumstances called for decisive action. Making sure the hallway was clear, I rushed to my desk, picked up my back-pack and bolted towards the exit leaving behind a couple of very startled colleagues in my wake. I must have made quite a sight as I cantered back home, furiously tugging at my shirt with both my hands, wondering why the hell I got out of bed in the morning... 8-) ... until later... cheers...