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 always have the weirdest lunches," she replied.

Ok, wait a minute. He has Hamburger Helper, every day, EVERY day, and yet, he has "the weirdest lunches." WHAT?
Now, sometimes I come in with some left-over Indian food, or maybe Thai food or even some homemade Chinese food. I can understand if someone were to say that to me, I don't agree, but I can understand. It's come to my understanding that beyond the "On the Border" style Mexican, take-out Chinese, and the rare Hibachi/Sushi, most of the people around me never stray from their daily flavours. They can't stomach the curry, or various other "exotic" spices. So, ok, maybe that is a bit beyond the grilled cheese, chef salad, hot dog and hamburger fare. But, come on! Hamburger Helper can by no stretch of the imagination be considered "out of the ordinary".

Just the other week, one of my co-workers asked me if I had any plans. My only real plans were to meet up with some friends in "the City" and have some ethiopian food. Noone had ever had ethiopian food. Most would not ever try it. But, in my short time there I have managed to obtain the guy with the "weird" life status. And this without knowledge of me beyond having a tree fall on my car, having had a crackhead roommate, and a few details about one of the girls I used to date. They don't know that I was once in a car chase, or that I once hid from police buried under a pile of leaves in the woods, or the candy cane incident. They don't know the weird things strangers have said to me, the close encounters with the supernatural or that some of my friends video tape each other having sex.

So there you have it, I don't watch American Idol and I don't bet on sports. I'm the office weirdo. Not the office pariah mind you, that would be my cube-mate. She who has loud boisterous reactions to things she says to herself.