Monday, June 19, 2006

ABSURDISM AT THE OFFICE

One afternoon last week in the office as I half-mindedly searched my rucksack with one hand for the banana I was sure I'd brought, put it right about... here... in my bag this morning before leaving home, if I remember rightly... though 'remembering rightly' doesn't ring with the conviction it used to... as I say, I was searching - with waning certainty - for the banana with my left hand while keyboard-editing in diminishing certainty with my right...

I was in need of a quick shot of brain food, such as a banana, to overcome the incrementally mind-draining effects of late-afterlunch deep editing. I was locked in a downward syntactic spiral that continued descending, feeding on the hunger by which it plunged faster, because although I searched and searched again... must've been the day before yesterday I put that banana in the bag and if so I ate that on the same day, ergo yes, there is no banana...

So, back to steadily dimming two-fisted editing till the end of the work day, when with whatever intellect remained I went outside to go home and found that it was pouring rain in individually packaged macrodrenching units, so I expertly reached in to get my umbrella and pulled out the banana I always keep right at hand to open over my head in the event of sudden downpours.

Needless to say, the banana did not keep off the rain. I ignored the question that rose as hard as the rain fell upon my head: had I eaten my umbrella?

10 comments:

Chancy said...

Ok Robert....Now you've done it. I cannot stop laughing at that story. I love it. Love it.

Reminds me of my banana caper some years back. I was eating my breakfast and had just reached for a banana when my dog, Mollie, a springer spaniel,started throwing up on the floor as she had also been ill the night before.

I called the vet. He said bring her in. I rushed back to the bedroom to dress leaving my banana on the kitchen counter.

I came back to the kitchen preparing to put Mollie in the car and decided I would eat my banana on the way to the vet.

No banana. Gone. Peel and all. High counter where I left it- empty.

Mollie looking sheepish and licking her lips. She had stood up to the counter, stole my banana and wolfed it do.

Mollie's indigestion not too serious, I decided if she can eat a whole banana, peeling and all.

And by the way, your stomach may swell somewhat every time it rains when the umbrella has the urge to open.

Robert Brady said...

Thanks Chancy, the weather's been rather dry since then, so I've been feeling ok, except for an occasional twinge right here... and there... and there...

Anonymous said...

Oh, the tears are running down my face! And, I can see how you would get confused; they both open in much the same way, leaving a part to hold onto! And, their major use is in the neighborhood of the head.

Ah, wonderous banana,
How umbrella-like you are!
So easily confused, the two,
Beneath a baleful star!
And should the 'brella yellow be,
Well, then, of course, you see
That Robert would just munch it down
And only later have to frown
'cause, no matter how hard you try
A banana will not keep you dry!

I'm sure that the endorphins released by this exercise you've started in my head are every bit as good for me as the potassium in the banana!

Anonymous said...

All this is so painfully familiar, especially the "diminishing" part. Well written, Robert! Tight, compact, humorous, with a message.

Anonymous said...

Still laughing out loud and recalling similar experiences.

Thank you for this.

Val said...

Just dont park your banana in the bucket outside the supermarket! Brilliant blogging! Thanks.

Mary Lou said...

OOOOO That's GOTTA hurt coming out!!

Tabor said...

Who is Joceyln and when she writes so well, why doesn't she have a blogsite?

Anonymous said...

Tabor,
Joycelyn is spelled and pronounced with a Joy. And she's grateful that you like her work.

samcandide said...

Ah! My first laugh-out-loud in a week, maybe two. Thank you!

I never could edit for squat after about 1 p.m.; 5 or 6 a.m. to noon were my peak hours.