Our office is moving and they’re trying to pick out colors for the cubicles (CAUTION: may contain office like substance). I was approached for my ideas, keeping in mind they were looking for something that wouldn’t show dirt.

I grabbed a scrap sheet of paper, lovingly placed it on the ground in front of me, stepped back, and took a running leap at it (feet first of course… it’s not like I’m completely out of my gourd). I picked it up and pointed at the scuff mark left by my shoe, “I think we should go with that color.”

I got the best response I could have hoped for… none whatsoever; just a searching look that said, “I can’t quite tell if your serious or not and I’m not sure I want to know.”

Note: discerning readers may recognize my sidebar comment in the first sentence – my homage to The Tuesday Morning Quarterback on espn.com.

The mercury might not reach sixty today! We’re shivering in our thermal underwear today, I can safely say!

The great tragedy in all of this is my office… which is hotter than Hades on a bad day. One side of my office is a floor to ceiling wall of window, and not one of them opens. This is not uncommon in office buildings of this size – but no less disappointing. But they’re apparently well insulated too. So while our heater is working harder than I am, relief is out of reach at less than three feet away.

Have you ever had one of those days when you were particularly irony intolerant?