Ugh. There is a shoeless cretin running amok in my office and I find the whole situation to be vile.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. Innocently, I walked into the 2nd Floor loo one day to find her standing before me in all her naked footed glory. In the loo. The bathroom. The nasty nasty public toilet. WITH NO SHOES ON.
Since then, I see her all the time, padding around the massive office in her bare feet. Pad pad pad to the kitchen. Pad pad pad to the loo. Pad pad pad back to her desk. I want to shout in her face, ‘YOU REPULSE ME!’ but I can’t because that would be unprofessional. Almost as unprofessional as WALKING AROUND THE OFFICE BAREFOOT.
The other day I was trying to enjoy my lunch when I again spotted the shoeless wonder kicking back with her bare feet up on the communal canteen furniture. I wanted to throw my pasta salad in her face but I didn’t because that would be gross. Almost as gross as RUBBING YOUR HOBBIT FEET IN MY FACE WHILE I’M TRYING TO EAT.
Ugh. Need wine immediately.
As a fitful, dramatic, and emotional being, I can find much use for this Weekes Word in my life.
Paroxysm: origins in ancient Greek from paroxynein (meaning to stimulate, also root for ‘oxygen’) appearing in 15th century English via French paroxysme and meaning a sudden attack or outburst of a particular emotion or activity. Ex: Weekes gouged out her eyeballs in a paroxysm of rage after she witnessed the shoeless wonder heat her pungent fish curry in the office microwave.
Until next time keep ’em covered, office drones!
xWG // #dazeandweekes