I am worried that people at work now think I'm weird because I haven't been very good about the "office chat" for a couple of months.

Last weekend I bought the LA Times and didn't read one word of it. Who can read that stuff? It's so depressing! I need therapy twice a week as it is. So I had to grow up in an alcoholic family and read about people dying and wars being fought? No, thank you.

Just for today it's OK to just bring chips and salsa to the office party. Just because Francesca brought homemade ceviche and Edward made stuffed mushrooms and Rachel baked a pie, doesn't diminish the quality of my contribution. I can't always express the maximum amount of energy, effort, creativity and thought into every aspect of my life and still take care of myself. And even if I might feel slightly cheap that I didn't take the time to buy the ingredients to make guacamole (my only specialty), these are only feelings. And even if I enjoy the food other people made more than I enjoy the standard, boring chips and salsa (OK, I'm judging again) that doesn't make me a bad person. Just for today, it's OK to show up for Fred's going away party bringing myself, Tostitos, and Pace Picante sauce. That is more than enough.

Sometimes when I've been staring at the computer for too long I get "bluritis" and everything looks blurry on the screen, and I can't think straight. I wonder what kind of society places people in tiny cubicles in front of these machines made of light particles. As much as I e-mail friends and co-workers and visit my favorite healing sites on the web, it still feels like I am wasting my life in front of a computer. Just for today, I can take my "bluritis" as a sign that it's time to step away from the computer, meet a friend for coffee or go read magazines. Despite the fact that I may have been surfing the Internet looking for a bathing suit is beside the point. Just for today, my "bluritis" is my call to leave the office and take a break.

I don't know much about Feng Shui or Eastern design, but I can say that whoever came up for the design of offices in corporate America surely must have been color blind. When I reflect on my work history I am flooded with the colorful shades of gray that have greeted me in my various office locations. Carpets, cubicles, walls, computers, and suits have all consistently shared this strange lifeless color. Ironically, or strangely, the jobs themselves and the people themselves have not exactly teemed with life either. I know that in many third world countries, men and women celebrate color, even as they lack food or health care. And while I understand that not everyone may appreciate my peach bathroom or burgundy hallway, I do know that just for today, I don't have to live in grayness. Just for today, I can be proud to be loud.

Occassionally I get spam in Chinese, Korean or my favorite language, which is, ¿Ø?ø?Æ?º. ?!¡¬??µ?µÓµÓ ¿œ.

I like to forward them to my co-workers with notes like:

"Hilarious....read to the bottom of the e-mail, I swear you won't regret it...

¿Ø?ø?Æ?º. ?!¡¬??µ?µÓµÓ ¿œ›¿?¿?Œ ªÁøΫœ¥¬ ¥Î?Œ?–¿« «¡Œ±?•¿ª¿Ø«œ?Ì ¿÷?¿¥œ¥Ÿ. ??µÁ «¡Œ±?•¿? ¡§«?¿ª ±?¥ÎŒ ?ªÁ«— ?տñ‚ ?ßÆø° º?¥…¿? µø¿œ«’¥œ¥Ÿµøæ» ?Ò°?› ?ßÆø° « ø‰«œ?Ⱥ!=µµ ªÁøΫœ¡ˆ ¯«fl¥¯ «¡Œ±?•µÈ¿ª ? µÓ«–ª´´ ?Áƒ• øε¿?"

It ocurred to me, though, that for all I know, I'm e-mailing out links to hard core porn or mail order bride catalogues...whoops.

Just for today, I'll think twice about my actions.

For reasons that I don't quite understand, I volunteered to organize a pot-luck barbecue for my office. I sent out an e-mail requesting certain food items and after recieving a swell of RSVPs, I now am responsible for a pot-luck consisting of chips, juice, and lighter fluid. Apparently, I'm not the only office party freeloader. I'm going to have to trust in the universe to bring something substantial for the grill.

Just for today, I can have faith in my office barbecue.

Either all of my office mates and co-workers live in the Land of Normal, or they do a much better job at hiding their "irregularities" than I do. It really seems like I'm the only one who might have capability of (i.e., history) running into the office with tears rolling down my face sans any major catastrophe…

Is that because I am the designated office freak? And, yet, it's like they don't see it. They walk up to me like they came from a session with the Office Buddha. Where do I sign up?

Just for today, it's OK to feel like the invisible office freak.

'Tis the hour of office witchcraft. That strange time when the copier starts jamming and the network goes down and everyone wonders what's really growing inside of Marco's coffee mug (that he "washes" evey day). Yes, folks, it's the unsung period of office weirdness (people who say it's 3:30 PM are just trying to leave early), when the lines between daydreams and blue cubicle walls begins to blur. It's a time when I have to focus and fight off the temptation to belt out the theme song from "Greatest American Hero" while performing my Flamenco dance moves...(there was the time when Marge was found in the nude throwing garlands out the window while shouting "Carpe Diem!"...).

Just for today, I can contain myself during the witching hour.

At 12:00 PM me and Marco lined up to get our plates of food while wearing our NAME TAGS WITH THE RED DOTS (because we read the e-mail that warned us that if we weren't wearing our name tags with the red dots there would be no point in showing up.)

There was a drawing for door prizes and the only prize worth having were movie tickets (cuz I don't need anymore bottles of Two Buck Chuck). And guess who won the movie tickets?!! That's right!

Also, there was a woman reading Tarot cards. I was afraid to go to her, but everyone else seemed happy so I figured (since she works here) she wasn't going to pull out the DEATH CARD and announce that I had terminal disease, a treacherous relationship or the career trajectory Dilbert. So, anyway, I went in and I pulled out:

Past - Woman of the World
Present - Synergy
Future - Hermit, Man of Chrystal, The Magician

IN A NUTSHELL: I'm coming from a strong female tradition of creativity, etc., I'm in a relationship trying to heal all the old stuff, and I'm getting ready to lock myself in a cave (which, quite frankly, feels like what I've been doing) and do some inner soul searching (which, again, I feel like I've done that since I was 8), AND THEN (hopefully sometime soon) I will go forth into the world with male MAN OF CHRYSTAL ENERGY (which has something to do with technology) and make things happen like a Magician Godess flicking boulders down a mountain (thanks Dr. Phil for the imagery). This part I've been waiting to do since I was 8, but if there's more sould searching to do, so be it (I've waited this dang long, a few more years isn't going to waste me).

Relationship: We complement each other well, but we do things differently (uh...yeah?!). The card had swans on it and swans mate for life.

Just for today, I can enjoy Staff Social Day!

My relationship is in the toilet, I will soon be unemployed, and I broke my sugar abstinence at the office X-mas party with a giant piece of pecan pie that I inhaled like a smoker in a French bar.

On a positive note, my guacamole was a big hit (and no, nobody got trashed and fell into the punch bowl this year...so boring). The guacamole dish was wiped clean.

Just for today, I have an awesome guacamole recipe (fresh lime juice is what gives it a kick).

I gave notice at my job last week.

While drinking the rum eggnog at the Christmas party I got a chance to see how the inmates really feel about working in an environment whose steady politeness and good benefits turns people into walking corpses.

My friend Tim refers to that day as "the day all fun ended." And then there was Mike and Tom who said that they had been there too long to retire. Tom went on to say that after five or six years he thought "what am I doing here?" But now, SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER he's (presumably) comfortable with seeing life as one steady lifeless journey towards retirement.

I wanted to run around the h'ourdeurves table shouting "Step away from the spiked eggnog and Kaluah coffee for one moment and realize that you don't have to go to another depressing office party if you really don't want to for one more day of your life! Just let go of your fear!"

But I realized that they would all look at me like I'm crazy. And probably I am. Because I'm leaving a job with "GOOD BENEFITS" and I don't have another one. But the truth is....

....just for today, I feel free!

My office organized a lovely office good-bye party with lots of cake and coke and I am now crashing from a sugar coma. When my friend Deraj gave me the official office going-away card filled with love and generosity, he announced to the group that the collected donation was intended for the latest "MT upgrade" for my blog. It was at this point that everyone looked at he and I as if we were speaking Polish. And that's when I realized that I have entered the inner-circle of web geekdom. So I explained to the group about blogs, and MT (Moveable Type), and evil spammers who delete blogs (which means "web log"), and how I need an upgrade so that people can comments (which is what people do with blogs), and then everyone nodded and smiled (because people like to understand where their hard earned dollars go to when they contribute to the office collection...having given blindly to many donations, I understand).

So, the point is...boy, I am a geek! The point is also, I get an MT upgrade! The point is also that it's nice to have an office good-bye party. Horay!

Just for today, life is bitter sweet.

I just stood in an elevator with a guy who works in my building. It's a small building, so this was the first time I had shared this space with someone else. It's one thing to be in a big crowded elevator with lots of people avoiding eye contact. But when it's just two people, there's a much higher degree of weirdness in the air. Especially when you're traveling one floor and there's not even time for tension relieving chit-chat. So, we both studied the slow progress of our one floor journey with the concentration of Superman using his X-ray vision.

Look at our shoes. Look up at the floor monitor (is that what it's called?). Check on floor again. Look up again.

All out of fear of seeing the soul the person I share elevator space with...

Just for today, I can examine my fear.

This freelance writer life-style is totally spoiling me. I'm forever ruined for office life.

If I had to go back to an office-job, I would totally fail at the social etiquette. My office-chat skills are sinking to an all-time low. I'd never know how to act at office birthday parties after the Cost-co cake and Cherry Coke sugar bomb has worn off. Am I forgetting how to take coffee breaks? Am I losing my ability to send off a chain e-mail on a whim....?

Now, if I need a break I just walk over a few feet and plop back into bed. You call this work? No, I don't. It's criminal, really. On some days I actually make money and the only reason I left the apartment is because I wanted somebody to notice my outfit. Yes, I have already written about the 24-7 work week and how I enjoy it far more than the civilian 9-5 life. But what I haven't mentioned is how downright WEIRD I am becoming. Or, WEIRD-ER I should say. It's just not natural to not have to get in your car and drive to a desk where you can plunk down your coffee-mug and stare at your computer screen as it starts-up and think to yourself, "Why was I an Art History major?"

It's just kind of un-American for each day to be different and special and unique and not your own version of Groundhog's day.

Just for today, I am developing into a freelance writer.

So, exactly when did the Office Christmas Party become Prom Night for adults? I thought the only time I would have to worry about having a date as a single (and fabulous) person was weddings and funerals?! Now, I have to go and scrounge up a date from the depths of my Palm pilot (which I don't actually have...just the software on my computer...it's on my list of things to buy...).

Just for today, I'm considering going to the office Christmas party as a single (and fabulous) lady.