As is the custom at my office, the bomb always drops at the end of the day. In a way, I guess this is sound policy. People get a chance to digest the news at home, away from the office. This way, it’s old news when it is time to go back to work and be productive. Today, the bomb was dropped at approximately 3:30 p.m. The private firm that our office has contracted with for legal services has been replaced. Attorneys have come and gone from their office, but I have enjoyed working with each and every one of them. What’s more, they have earned my respect in a way that I didn’t think was possible. Like many people in our society, I believed the stereotype. It’s a stereotype that may hold true for many in their profession, but not so for the people that I’ve worked with.

Me and my coworkers were sucked into the ensuing whirlwind of discussion for the rest of the afternoon. Even so, it was hard to go home to a place where I could not share my shock with those who share my shock.

Change is not always bad. Heck, this change might turn out to be good. Regardless, I’ll miss the folks we have worked well with thus far.

I hope things work out well for all of us.

I am at work and I am sitting quietly in a training session slated to go all day. It is a painfully slow class, and I’m only twenty minutes in. A straggler strolls in carrying herself like she owns the State. She is in a really good mood, but she can’t seem to get a song out of her head. I know this because she is singing it out loud. I’m using every ounce of will I’ve got to listen to the instructor, who is droning on with all the enthusiasm of a “dead man walking.” All the while, I can’t seem to ingore the tune stuck in my classmate’s head. She really hits a groove and starts to move. Hand gestures, full body swaying lead by a head seemingly attached by a spring, tapping feet … nothing is left out of the performance. This goes on until she gets hungry. She takes a break from her Tina Turner fantasy to haul out a snack. I challenge you to go through your shopping list and find a more distracting finger food … than sunflower seeds in the shell. O.k., so maybe you could find one more distracting, but I’ll bet you won’t guess what she did with them. She took a handful at a time and tossed them into her mouth with all the subtlety of lions feeding on Christians. She then proceeded to break the shells with her teeth, fish the shattered remnants of the shells from her mouth with her fingers, and flick the chesoggy mass into a coffee filter sitting next to her on the table. So, when I’m not listening to the snap-krackle-pop of the seeds breaking open in her mouth I’m mesmerized by the partially digested lump soaking through a coffee filter next to me on the table.

Now repeat.

During the next cycle, she decides to accompany herself on some kind of brass insrument, probably a trumpet. NO JOKE. Picture in your mind the last scene, only now she’s got her hand to her mouth with her fingers apparently pressing and releasing the imaginary mechanisms of a trumpet. When she fininshes her imaginary jam session of one, she goes back to the seeds. She follows the seeds with an apple, crunched bite by distracting bite to the core.

Now repeat.

By the end of the day I have learned nothing but my tolerance level for annoyance. Now I’m getting ready to go back for another day. I’m hoping for another seat.