Well as some of you may have noticed, it’s gotten a little cooler outside. It’s fall again, which is signified most by these three things:
- The leaves change color
- You have to switch to you warm wardrobe
- You must brace yourself whenever you’re about to sit on the toilet seat, which for the next 6 months is cold enough to do an ice luge off of.
I don’t mind the first two at all. In fact they’re what I love about the season. The colored foliage, pronounced “foilage” by the way, with its magical reds, greens, and yellows reminiscent of Lucky Charms, makes me smile. Wearing sweaters is a seasonal joy, made impossible by the oppressive sun and humidity of August. Sitting on a frozen seat with your exposed nether regions, though� It’s almost like the gods’ retribution for Prometheus bringing us fire all those years ago. We can be warm anywhere else these days, except when it counts most: when your bare ass comes in contact with a donut shaped icicle. We can send a man to the moon, but we can’t sit on a warm toilet seat in the month of October. It seems the terrorists have truly won.
Where the terrorists, I mean management, have truly won is where I work. Gas prices have gone up this year, so the temperature in the office has to go down. This is the same place that insisted that the air conditioner worked because the thermometer placed in the vent read 64 degrees, but the room was still 85. I feel like Bob Cratchet, huddled over a desk, wearing those hobo gloves with the finger tips cut off. I can extend the Scrooge analogy, but that�s another tale, so I’ll leave it at that.
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