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roadnotesMy boss has brought in a box full of gourmet black-and-white cookies, and placed them on my desk. I will assume that these are in "revenge" for my supplying the entire office with chocolates, candy corn, pretzels (including hand-dipped chocolate-covered pretzels), and -- lately -- cashews.
I like food.
I like tastes, and textures on the tongue and between the teeth, and the feeling of spices sliding down the back of the throat. But I can't eat very much at one sitting -- I never have -- and I have no emotional (visceral?) comprehension of what it's like to eat until I'm stuffed.
So I have no problem with having a full candy dish on my desk, and limited sympathy for the people who tell me that it's unfair for me to put it out. And we've been dealing with a very high-stress project, with a deadline abruptly moved from close-of-business on Thursday to noon today -- which we managed to pull off. I shall take the cookies and make sure that everyone else who's been working on the project gets one, and put the rest in the refrigerator for tomorrow.
Thus is equilibrium maintained.
I like food.
I like tastes, and textures on the tongue and between the teeth, and the feeling of spices sliding down the back of the throat. But I can't eat very much at one sitting -- I never have -- and I have no emotional (visceral?) comprehension of what it's like to eat until I'm stuffed.
So I have no problem with having a full candy dish on my desk, and limited sympathy for the people who tell me that it's unfair for me to put it out. And we've been dealing with a very high-stress project, with a deadline abruptly moved from close-of-business on Thursday to noon today -- which we managed to pull off. I shall take the cookies and make sure that everyone else who's been working on the project gets one, and put the rest in the refrigerator for tomorrow.
Thus is equilibrium maintained.
