I've decided to do everything earlier-- at least that is the goal for May. I had a momentary lapse trying to remember why I was wanting to do everything earlier . . . go to bed earlier to get up earlier to get to work, to leave work to do what ever it is I do in the evening . . . why did I want to push this up an hour?

Oh yeah . . . work. You would think everyone at my work was very motivated. We get to work pretty early most of the time. We work quickly while in the lab, and we goof off at our desks as much as possible. (Which is considerably easier for everyone else than it is for the lion and I, being that our cubicals are open to the world, and the rest are hidden away in corners. As a matter of fact we were busted by a group of Chinese business men or scientiests, who knows, they were touring the labs. They walked by and looked at us with questions in their slanty little eyes as we sat in our shared cubical munching animal crackers dipped in peanut butter talking about my disease ridden cat.)

All this because of our boss, BS. She is nice, pretty easy going- no micro managing . . .but she talks. She talks loud so we can all hear her over the machines. She talks about nothing and everything. She says the same thing 4 times in a row, or until someone responds. She talks about her car, her ex husband, her boyfriends, her daugher, her diet, her classes, her family . . . oh how she talks! Sometimes I want to stab myself in my ear with a pipetter! But I don't.

And our coworker, E, likes to defy BS. Everyday E wears sandles in the lab. Everyday BS says to E, "Your toes are showing!" (with an air of mock scandalization and the slightest of lisps) Everyday E responds (and with finess) "I know." As if to say, "The showing of this one extrodinarily long second toe hanging off the front of my sandle is the crowning joy of my day." And everyday E walks away with the proud gait of a woman who has raged against the 'the man' and has lived another day to wear sandles in the lab.

Speaking of wearing sandles in the lab, it is against safety policy, as is wearing saris in the lab and "putting out fires which require breathing air." Heck, I am required to breath air all the time! NO fires are going out on my watch. NO! I'm going to be off breathing air somewhere out of the way!

So-- the lion and I stand in the back of the lab and bark at each other, then we say "En Francais!" and we shout, "Le bark! Le bark!" And we laugh because we find this highly amusing, and because we just want to do something to drown out the talking.