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another day at the office

As I sat down and prepared to begin the long process of absorbing nutrients out of my 99 cent pot-pie, freshly bombarded with microwaves, I began to glean understanding of the inner workings of the 'office' mentality. I've long said that I feel out of place where I work, that I don't identify with the people around me. That beyond small talk, I have little or nothing to say to most everyone there. I don't possess the 'ambition'/'kiss ass ability' to excel in this environment. But I digress. As I dug my plastic utensil into the crust of my savory and delicious pot-pie one of my co-workers said to another, "What is that?" Pointing an inquistive yet mildly accusing finger at the mush lying in his tupper-ware. "Hamburger Helper," he responded. In fact, if you were to ask him that question on any given day his answer would always be "Hamburger Helper". "Beef stroganoff," he embellished a little more. "You alw...
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The Sausage Part 2

However, and for whatever reason, the sausage liberated itself is still unclear. Word came to me that a friend of mine, had upon returning home from the festivities, discovered the sausage in his pocket. Then as anyone who finds a strange sausage upon their person would do, he sliced it up and began to enjoy the last familial connection my father had given me. In fact, another friend who was his roommate saw him eating it and yelled "That's Shin's sausage! It's the only thing his dad ever gave him!"  Shortly thereafter, I had a conversation about this with my brother, still away at school. He had never received his sausage, one can only imagine the psychological implications of this packaged meat slight. He lamented the loss of mine in empathy. To ease the pain of loss, he gave me a replacement sausage as a gift for the holidays.This is the point at which the sausage began to take on the aspect of "tradition". If we fast forward a year, we find ourse...
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