Secret portals and poor math skills.

So, there is this one brick in the wall of the office bathroom that looks like it was removed and then replaced haphazardly and I can't help but wonder what's behind it.

Maybe it's some sort of portal to another dimension where I am skinny and not stuck at work on a Sunday. Maybe one of the maintenance men robbed a bank and stashed the riches there. Maybe there is a secret stash of emergency tampons in there since the 'tampon tin' seems to be empty whenever an emergency occurs.

Seriously people. When you use the last one, buy some more!

Maybe I'm just bored with my job and my life and spending way too much time in the office bathroom. Also, I may have undiagnosed irritable bowel syndrome. Or I may just have undiagnosed irritable drone syndrome where I feel the need to randomly escape to the confines of the office bathroom to avoid all contact with my coworkers, who often make me twitchy.

Not all of them. Just a good portion of them. Also, I'm disgruntled again. Still. Whatever. Work just bores me.

I keep trying to get MB to let me be a stay at home wife. He's always bitching about the laundry piling up, yet he won't support me staying at home to work on it. Do you want clean underwear or not? It seems like an obvious solution to me.

Sheesh.

Anyway, they finally put soap in the new soap dispensers in the office bathroom. I say finally because they put the dispensers in two weeks ago. The soap? Two days ago. Apparently, they don't know how to do math very well.

We have been forced to use dish detergent as hand soap for the past two weeks. Like animals. ANIMALS!

I'm not even sure if that particular bottle of dish detergent came from the stash that we are forced to purchase for the office kitchen. They won't buy us dish detergent so we all have to bring in a bottle. I may or may not have already purchased mine. If the one in the bathroom suddenly disappears on the same day that my name shows up on the 'I bought dish detergent because I'm a compliant drone' list, it is definitely a coincidence.

These are the things that consume me while I'm at work. Maybe we need better magazines or more lenient internet access. Then, I would not be thinking of ways to discreetly cut into that haphazard brick in the office bathroom and finally solve that pesky mystery.

Holy hell. I wish my phone would fully charge already so I could check Facebook and play Scramble with Friends. Also, whoever sent me the text that says "Cant opn pic kiddo", I don't know what the hell you are talking about. Stop sopping up my phone's battery power with your nonsense.

I hope you are having a less mind-numbing Sunday morning.