I have dirty, dirty desk

Sweet Mother of God, I thought it was Friday when I woke up this morning. There were a couple of things that flashed through my head. Number 1: Crap, tomorrow is not Saturday. Number 2: Crap crap, I have to come up with a topic for today’s blog. This blogging is starting to seem like work. Number 3: My Thursday project of cleaning off my desk is still unfinished and I need to get that done today.

If it were Friday; tomorrow would be Saturday, I would not need to make up a topic, and my desk would be clean.

Alas and alack it is indeed Thursday. And my desk really is a sty. It is not a stye. That would mean my desk was inflaming or infecting my eye. My eye isn’t even inflamed, and if it were, I do not think it would be my desk’s fault, especially with all the crap I stick in my eye. All in all it is a good desk. Not really a desk of infectious origins. It is a simple cubicle desk. It really is nothing special, and definitely not a desk of eye infection germination. (man, I am grabbing at straws here, today’s topic seems to be about a desk. How lame. Eh, it is something to talk about though.)

I really do not think I was emotionally prepared for today not to be Friday. I mean, for God’s sake, I have been rambling on about my desk for good paragraph here. Well, not a good paragraph like they teach you in 8th grade English class. Those have a thesis statement, 3 supporting statements and a conclusion sentence. Ah, the perfect 5 sentence paragraph. It has been a long time since I have been forced to turn in the good old 5 sentence paragraph.

Pine martens are not nice creatures. These denizens of the forest are predators. They hunt and kill for pleasure as well as survival. One of them lives in my head and causes me great amounts of pain in the cranial region. I do not like pine martens.

Man I am rambling… mainly to keep from cleaning my desk off. A cluttered desk signifies that I have work that needs done. If I have work that needs done, I clearly need to stay gainfully employed. The powers that be have been curious about all the typing I do though… Too bad I cannot actually touch type. I hunt peck and curse for my typing style. I am envious of people who can type, and more envious of those that have something good to type. I am just blathering, and slowly by typists standards.

To recap:
Thursday… not Friday
Less people would do this if it were called blooging
My desk is not dirty, and has not infected my eye with its mess
I work in a cubicle
Spelling is not my fort
God, that last one kills me
I use 2 fingers and the thumb of my right hand, and only 2 fingers of my left hand to type
It is surprisingly efficient for not being fast, well at least I am noisy at typing
Man, my head is killing me