Prune Thief

Somebody stole my prunes.

Yes, I returned to work this Monday morning to find part of an empty wrapper on my desk. That’s what convinced me, actually. I’d seen some of my trail mix strewn across the desk and found it odd that I’d been that sloppy.

I hadn’t.

The empty prune wrapper—thrown in the recycle tub, which I wouldn’t have done—told me a hungry thief had been in my cube.

And he left my trail mix open.

Gross. Some stranger’s hand has been digging around in my food. I threw the rest in the trash.

My coworkers tell me they've had a problem with theft around here.

***

The secondary question, of course, is why in the hell I have prunes… eh, they were on sale and I wanted to try them. They’re not bad, actually.

***

My fantasy baseball team is 6-1, in sole possession of first place for the first time this season. It feels really strange to have a winning team for a change…

***

Addiction… It’s a bit long-winded, but there’s some potent stuff in here.

***

If you don’t drink, it can lead to all sorts of awkwardness.


I really like my new coworkers (thank GOD). I hadn’t been here long when I got invited to a party one of them was throwing.

I had to decline, simply because I’m not often in the mood anymore to be in a room full of drinking people. I was as nice and as tactful as I could be, but I was honest.

Everyone today is talking about what a grand time they had. I think I made the right decision though.

But still, suddenly by having the wherewithal to stick to my guns, I’ve separated myself from them. Did anyone there ask why I didn’t come? What was said? How was it received?

Yeah, I care.

***

I think I’ll leave a note for a snack thief: “Dear snack thief. Hope you enjoyed the prunes. Your bowels will thank you. Oh, there was a roach in that bag of trail mix. Can’t find it now though. You screwed up my lawsuit against Sam’s Choice. Go to hell.”