Bochinchosas, Chismosas, Y Interesadas...

It's where I am at right now. I drove straight here, took the carpool lane, I passed go, I didn't collect my hundred dollars, and I certainly didn't ask for directions.

I usually take the same route every time but every once in a while I will switch it up and take 11th street instead of Santa Clara. Why? I have no clue. I use to have an IPOD that I would listen to on my way here to sort of ease the pain I know I am going to face, but my wonderful brain has put it in a top secret location so top secret that it refuses to reveal its whereabouts to me. Rather than listening to my favorite tunes while singing loudly and proudly, I scan my brain for any potential mistakes I might have made the night before premeditating solutions before my arrival. Or instead I practice all foreign accents. Lately I have been favoring the leprechauns and practicing my Irish brogue. Sometimes I feel fancy and in honor of the upcoming royal-pain-in-the-ass wedding I practice my English accent. And when I'm feeling mighty ethnic I practice what I like to call my "yo-I'm-from-the-Bronx-&-I'm-Boricua-&-proud" accent. And although I think I am fairly good at every accent I attempt, when I am asked to show off my skills I cower in embarrassment and perform terribly under pressure so don't bother asking for a free sample.

As I arrive every morning, I survey the parking lot to see if my manager is already in, next I scan for the closest parking spot to the door. I park the car, gather my mess which includes a bag filled with bills I swear I am going to pay online, letters I swear I am going to send out in the morning mail, and of course a book I know I am not going to read. I head inside for what is sure to be the most delightfullest most pleasantest day of all days.

However, this morning as I walked in I was greeted with an odd vibe. There was a substance in the air that had a stinky odor to it, something I'm not normally accustomed to but nonetheless, it was in the air. Betrayal, regret, awkwardness, nervousness, and as I was asked to go into the back room aka closet of shame, I then realized why. When I came out of the closet, (not literally), they were huddled uttering words that must have been filled with a juice so juicy they couldn't wait to spew. How cute! Although at the moment I hadn't realized that I was the topic of their brief pow wow, it was awfully considerate of them to detain themselves as soon as I approached the dead end of my work station.

However trivial this may seem, it's moments like these that I know add spice to their lives. It's moments like these that make their life more relevant, more suspenseful, more exciting. So instead of being angry and bitter and resentful and vengeful, I will just gladly with a smile say "Your welcome!" I gave you something to look forward to on your otherwise monotonous mornings and although it was at my expense, I have to say it was pretty exciting for me too while it lasted.