I just got back from hanging out with Ellen. She made a delicious teriyaki and we watched several episodes of Invader Zim. She appreciated the sheep pencil which you might understand better if you'd seen the pencil, too. I brought to her attention that she's unhealthily obsessed with Jeffrey Tambor, and she brought to my attention that I'm unhealthily obsessed with her unhealthy (and possibly fictional) obsession with Jeffrey Tambor. It was a good time.
Anyway, today at work I took down everything in my cubicle. My calendar is still up, as are Almighty Tong, the stainless-steel spork, and my Lovery Animal World Funky Duck box (photos of these three items available here), but otherwise everything else is gone. I did this just before I took my lunchbreak, and it freaked everybody out. When people confronted me to ask if I was leaving unexpectedly, I said "no, I'll be around for at least a couple more weeks -- gotta give proper notice." That didn't sit well, so I had to assure everybody that I was just reorganizing my desk.
Now they're worried that I'm aiming for management. That's an attractive idea, but the jump to management from Sub-Sub-Peon, Second Class is rather a big one, so I might be better off sticking to what I do best which is to read letters from stupid people and figure out ways to make them sound less stupid. If anyone from work is reading this, I would never dream of calling our clients stupid. I have better things to dream about.