I had to send an e-mail to a co-worker the other day. I needed to include a funny comment, but worried that she might not get the joke. I started at my computer screen for a few seconds. She has a great sense of humor, so she would have to get the gag, but she’s also higher on the food chain than I am. I didn’t want to rock the boat.
So I did something I don’t like to do in everyday communication. I used an emoticon in a work-related e-mail.
I didn’t even really notice that the Golden Globe Awards took place last week. But when I heard about the goodies in store for those in attendance, I sat up and took notice. The audience members received a goodie bag worth more than $1,300 of stuff while the movie stars who announced the winners received a bag of junk worth more than $62,000.
First of all, wow. Secondly, why do they call it a goodie “bag?” Do the stars get a huge bag with a vacuum cleaner, an espresso machine and a pair of jeans? If so, that must be a pain to get home, even if you did come in a limo.
I came home from work the other night and found Maria in the kitchen fixing dinner. Like most nights, I asked her what she was making. This time, she gave me an answer that scared me. “It’s a surprise.”
Uh oh.
Like anyone who has lost a parent, I have gone through all the stages of grief. When we celebrated Christmas recently, I learned how hard the anger stage can really be. I’m not mad at my mother or her doctors or anything like that. I’m just mad at the world.
For the first time in my life, I will have to buy my own Sports Illustrated.
Twas the night before Christmas
And on the driveway
Cornhole players were fueled
By beer and chardonnay