Dark Souls Nov 2013 Update

Better late than never? Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, I still enjoy doing these gaming/workout write-ups, so the madness continues:

Something I wrote on a whim

The weak shout into the abyss and hope the noise will echo into the ages, outliving their own fleeting existence, validating them and giving them purpose. But the abyss doesn't care about our insignificant hopes and wishes, our thoughts and fears. Our vain cries drown in the endless silence.

The brave know there is no point in screaming and struggling. They swallow their pride and let themselves be swept into the eye of the storm, where all the rest end up no matter what, and sometimes, if they're lucky enough, a few float to the top. They don't ask for this privilege; they are hurled into it, ready or not. Still fewer remain there. Most lose their way and fall, ending in obscurity with the rest of us.

But those few, those precious few, they swirl above it all in eternity, tiny pinpoints of hope and inspiration for the rest of us. They guide us, drive us, and above all serve as a reminder that in the depths of that crushing black void, we are never truly alone.

Peace and love, readerlings.

An update on the trash bags

So, I did finally break down and ask my nearest desk neighbor about the trash bags. It's no wonder I was confused. Evidently new bags are supposed to be put out for everyone by sanitation staff every week, but they never are. Sanitation folk are fickle beings, I suppose. Anyone needing more bags has to go and consult the trash bag guru, whose job has nothing to do with trash but his office is being used to store the extra bags for some mysterious reason.

Considering that I don't even know this person, I don't anticipate consulting the trash bag guru anytime soon. I think I'll just try to make my remaining bags last another month or so, and hopefully the coming spring thaw with warm the hearts of the sanitation folk enough that they'll take pity on us, the humble cube-dwellers, and share their bounty of refuse-catching receptacle liners. Here's hoping.

Peace and love, readers.

Socially Challenged

Let me give you an idea of how my brain works. When I started working, I had several plastic bags with which to line the trash can at my desk. I wasn't sure where they came from but was happy to have them. However, if I used one a week, I was going to run out of them fairly quickly.

At that point, any normal human being would have casually asked any nearby coworker where the extra trash bags were. In all, it's a fairly trivial and innocent request. It's not like I'd be asking for the blood of their first-born child. Even so, for some reason, my brain decided it would make more sense to sit and wait, hope that whoever had left some bags there in the first place would keep replacing them, and if they didn't (which they did not), simply avoid throwing trash in my own trash can to avoid using up the bags. This, in my mind, was a less stressful plan than approaching someone and asking where the bags are.

Now, some of you know I've dealt with social anxiety in the past. I've largely overcome it in recent years and function normally for the most part, but anyone possessing some illusion that I have somehow eradicated the anxiety altogether need only look at the following two sentences:

I've worked in my current office setting for eight months.

I still have no idea where the trash bags are.