It being a normal Friday, I was sitting around this morning, and, having pored over all of the new content on the googlewebz, was searching for new methods of procrastination. “Hey!” I said to myself (okay, not totally to myself, but not loud enough to be heard over the music). “I’ll clean my whiteboard! I can avoid actual work, while looking productive to any bosses walking by! And maybe even catch a good buzz off of the fumes!”
I pondered a moment over how little progress we’ve really made as a society, still clinging to our differentiation between “whiteboards” and “blackboards,” but I have hope that by the time the Live Acorn’s children are grown up and procrastinating the day away in their own dead-end gubmint jobs, the boards will all be rainbow-colored and they’ll ride to work on unicorns.
Soon enough, though, I got to the task before me, and with my dry-eraser in one hand and the spray bottle of board cleaner in another (the third was holding my drink), I set about the cleaning proper.
This may or may not surprise you, but I don’t put a whole lot of effort into keeping a tidy office. I like to think that the reams of paper strewn about the floor gives the impression of busy-ness and deters people from wandering in. This being the case, the bottle of board cleaner had not been used in … well, quite some time. Apparently, it was long enough ago that the spray plunger thingy had seized up, so that when I pressed down firmly, rather than emitting a fine mist onto the whiteboard, the top of the sprayer broke off and was forced down into the bottle itself, displacing the cleaning fluid quite violently, which resulted in my face and head being drenched.
Luckily, a coworker was nearby.
Dead Acorn: AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!
Coworker: Sup, dude?
Dead Acorn: AAAAAGGGHHH!!! MY EYES!!! MY EYES!!!!
Coworker (clueing in to the situation, and picking up the
broken bottle): Hmm. Let’s see … directions … ingredients … oh, here we go: Mild Eye Irritant. In case of contact with eyes, flush for 15 minutes.
Dead Acorn: AAAAGGGHHH IT BURNS IT BURNS IT BURNS!!!!!!!
Coworker: I don’t know what flushing for 15 minutes will do, but okay. (walking toward bathroom)
Dead Acorn: I think it means flush my eyes, Jim. My eyes.
Coworker: We have to stick your head in a toilet for 15 minutes? Dude …
Dead Acorn (sighing): Just lead me to the sink, please. I’ll take care of it.
So I’ve spent the last little while with my head under the faucet, trying to wash out the hydrochloric acid that I assume they put in that stuff. I’m also wearing my hat at my desk, as that is my primary method of hair management. I’m fairly certain that no one would blame me if I went down to The Flying Pie for a slice and a beer for lunch.
I wonder if they have discounts for the blind.