Ticklenotes

“I think I will live a pretty long life. I exercise and I eat a lot of cheese. Cheese is good for you.”

“You might get that job. I would be really happy.”
“Yeah, but I’d have to supervise you. I don’t think I can supervise my friends.”
“That would be OK with me. I can take constructive advice.”
“Well, I don’t think you manage your time really well.”
“You should take a walk in my shoes BEFORE you start giving your out your opinion.”

Talking to a woman in my office:
“Would you like snow seeds in your hot chocolate?”
“Snow seeds? What’s a snow seed?”
She sprinkled some mini-marshmallows on top of my hot chocolate. “Snow seeds.”

A co-worker, looking at the dead flies on my office window ledge, “Jesus! It’s like Amityville Horror in here . . . “

Overheard in a friend’s office this afternoon . . . .

Employee One: (Picks up the computer microphone on the desk): How bright is this light?

Employee Two: Not very . . . . because it’s a mircrophone . . . .

I was looking for a particular letter. I asked someone if they knew where it might be.  She said, “I have the email requesting the letter.”

“OK,” I said, ”I have that too. Thanks.”

“Do you want me to forward you the original?”

“Ummmmm  . . . “

I just got an email. It said, “I am attaching three copies of the correspondence, for your convenience.” In the attachment line, there were three documents, all the same – copies for my convenience.

Coworker telling me about a dream he had:

“I had a dream. I dreamt that I was called to my boss’ office and there was another boss there. My boss said to me, “You broke rule 29.”

I said, “There is no rule 29. There are rules 1 through 99, but there is no rule 29.”

They had me go outside and dig holes in the snow, looking for rule 29. I dug all of the rules out of the snow, except rule 29. I said, “See! There is no rule 29!”

“There most certainly is a rule 29,” they shouted.

“O.K., well what is rule 29?”

“Rule 29 states that you will take care of us,” they said. 

I said, “That’s funny. I’m not taking care of you,” and I woke up.

A co-worker, telling me about a recent conference his partner attended:

“He checked in and then they assigned him to his room.  You know, like they do at hotels. Well, he went to his room, and the door was open.  It wasn’t really open, open. You know that thing they use in hotels to lock the door? It was pushed out to hold the door ajar. So he goes in and . . . well, he gets the shock of his life.  The entire room is covered in BLOOD! I am SERIOUS! The bathroom, the bed, the walls, the floor! EVERYTHING!”

“My God! What did he do?”

“He went back to the front desk and told them he didn’t think the room was ready.”

“Did he tell them about the blood?”

“No, he didn’t want to get involved.  He had a conference to attend the next day and he wanted to get some rest before it started.”

An email I recieved from a coworker:

“You can come here, or I can come there.  Either way, one of us has to come.”