We’ve hit the dead center of the work week.
And I look forward to toppling right over the edge.
After more than six years in our building on Michigan Avenue, my company is moving offices. We’re not headed far, but the week of cleaning and packing has me all nostalgic about how long I’ve been hanging in my cubicle.
Also, it’s forcing me to clean out my desk.
Among the wreckage so far: two t-shirts, endless supplies of gummy rattlesnakes, three rulers (that I’ve never used), one million unused post-it notes, and strangest of all, an unopened bottle of expired chocolate syrup and a half used jar of chocolate sprinkles.
I almost wish I had a valid explanation for some of these items.
Some things are better left to the unknown, I think.
This morning, I headed to the gym to start my second to last week of the 5k program I’ve been working with my dad.
Progress is being made, chickens. 25 minutes are being run without my joints seizing up in protest.
Next week’s race, I have decided, is gonna be awesome.
Yoga tonight, however, might be a sore bones undertaking.
You can’t win them all, I guess.
Otherwise, what would be left to do?