sick, sick minds

I had a lovely, spacious box to mail christmas gifts to my sister and her family, but Lucy was naughty and peed in it (it appears that I can't leave any open box lying around, it will be degraded by Lucy). Fortunately there is always an abundance of desireable boxes here at work, ripe for the picking. I was perusing the fine selection this morning, my eye on a rather large box, wondering if was too large a parcel for the post however, and thinking out loud, said as much. Co-worker Holly came to my aid and took a peek online to check on package sizes. By the time she's done reading about how you have to measure the "length" and the "girth" in order to determine if it is a small or large "package", or if can even be shipped at all, we are in a fit of giggles. Much like the time when we were waiting for the elevator, my hands were full so I was trying to press the button with my elbow while Holly gets a soda. She comes back while I'm repeatedly trying to hit the button with my elbow (apparently harder than it seems), and asks me, "so you think if you rub it, it will come faster", why yes Holly, indeed I do.

I just decided I'd like to be a poet, I'm going to try my hand at it, soon you'll be seeing me at your local beatnik bistro, sharing my heart with finely crafted wordplay.