2002-12-04 - 12:11 p.m.

It's FREEZING in my office this morning, unacceptably freezing. This place, although beautiful, is without a doubt the most bootleg setup I've ever worked in. More often then not, the air conditioning is running rampant, the phones are down, and my email shuts itself down and then randomly sends my emails 14 times to the same person. The copier is always jammed, the fax machine works sporadically. On the bright side, however, they all look damn good, and at least the cappuccino machine is always fully functioning.

So we have this office manager, right? He is young, maybe 22 or 3, and let me tell you, he is FINE. We call him Malc0lm in the M1ddle, because Malc0lm is his name, and I may have heard a few girls in the office referring to, uh, the things they'd like to do to him. Not that I myself would participate in that kind of sexist crap, but there you have it. Anyway, he's sort of like a golden retriever. Big, lovable, gorgeous, and, well, not so bright. So I've spent the morning thus far trying to get him to understand that yes, I see that the thermostat says off, but cold air is still blowing out of the vent that is unfortunately located right above my head. No, no, I say, come with me, put your hand there, stand by my desk, you feel it? It's FREEZING out, Malc0lm, I cannot have air conditioning blowing on me.. and he persists, "Um. But come look at the thermostat. It says off. See, right there? *sigh* I don't care the thermostat reads "Fires of Hell", it's a fucking Arctic Tundra in my office.

Also today, in between appointments, I am going to run to the main post office to pick up some of those letters to Santa. If you don't know about this, it's a room at the post office filled with letters to Santa from underprivileged kids, and you get the list and fill it and then send it to them. There is nothing more personally rewarding for me about the holidays than doing this. There is something about seeing the actual letter, from a child, written in his or her hand, asking for winter coats or food for their mother, that makes me forget all the commercialized crap about Christmas, and feel grateful, thankful, for all that I have. There are people who go into that room and read through those letters with tears running down their face, but I don't have that kind of constitution. I just go in, grab some, and leave, and then do my crying at the office. I'm going to get a bunch of them today, and then guilt everyone in my office to take one. Heh.

So my holiday spirit is still going strong, and while it's still sickening, I'm getting used to it. Don't get me wrong, there is only so much holiday spirit a cynic like me can have, but I'm enjoying it this year like I haven't in ages. I mean, I'm not going carolling or anything, and I haven't purchased any clothing with reindeer or snowmen on it, so I think I'm still me.

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