And Then Comes The Calm.

The ceasefire was declared and just like that, the noise and chaos that had constantly made itself a part of my every day stopped. For the first time in weeks, there was peace. But now there was this silence. It seemed so unfamiliar, so unnatural.

I squeeze myself from beneath the pile of rubble that was my post. In the weeks of seemingly endless battle I only dared venture from beneath it to find food or check on my comrades. During those long days and nights, I thought constantly of my friends and family. I have to admit, the idea of deserting my post came to my mind more than a few times, but in the end I stuck it out. Not out of some sense of duty, though. It was because my failure would come at too great a cost. To my loved ones and especially to myself. So I did my job. I held the line. Maybe my reasons were selfish, but sometimes doing the right thing for the wrong reason is good enough.

Now, it was over. At least, for now anyway. Those of us who took part in this war all knew this was only going to be a temporary respite. There would be only a little time to mourn those who had fallen, enjoy what time we could with our loved ones and prepare ourselves for when war was declared again. We prayed the next battle wouldn't be as brutal as this one. The next time we were called to arms, we hoped we'd be ready. But we knew we would have to fight again and sooner than we'd like.

I turn again and take a last look at my makeshift bunker. I hope the next one is stronger and better equipped, but this one managed to stand the test. This pile of books, scribbled notes from classes and printed handouts that had been my place of refuge these last few weeks.

This battle, this semester is over. And I survived.

The Five Scariest Words.

Bonus day!!! I'm here and on Sprocket Ink with two full posts. You are quite welcome. So click the link, go, read, enjoy and then come back here for desert. It'll still be fresh when you get back.

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It was a Monday morning like any other Monday morning. I was at my former workplace, The Paper. As I always do, I went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. As I neared my destination, I should have sensed there was something wrong. Had it been any other day, my senses would have been sharper. Perhaps, had I already had that cup of coffee, I might have noticed that nature was slightly off-balance. But I didn't. Not until it was almost too late.

I walked through the kitchen door and immediately it hit me. There was indeed a disturbance in the force. There, in front of me, stood Joy and Fitz (not their real names, obviously). They were locked on a stare reminiscent to when a gazelle looks into a lion's eyes and knows he's just breathed his last.

I didn't know what was going on, but every instinct I had screamed at me to get out of that room. Which, of course, I did.

The tension in the air was thick. Soon, Fitz tried (unsuccessfully) to speak.

Fitz: That's not what I meant! I mean- Um... All I was saying was- I didn't mean that you were... Please don't kill me.


This was bad. Whatever he had said, Fitz had crossed a line. A line no man should cross, and now his end was near. Poor Fitz. I almost never spoke to him, but he seemed nice enough. If only I had the time, maybe we could have even been friends. But it was too late now. I decided it was best I get to a safe distance before Joy decided to make me seconds.

After the funeral Later, I found out what had happened. Joy and Fitz had run into each other in the kitchen and were chatting. That's when Fitz said the words that would seal his fate.

Fitz: You must have had a fun weekend. You look fatigued.

I. know. He actually did say that.

Then Joy - the woman who always smiled, the woman who prefers to hug you instead of telling you 'Good morning', the woman who pouted for three whole days because management refused to let her put up decorations in the office at Christmas... Yes, that Joy - stopped. The smile which seemed to be etched on to her face was still there, but somehow it seemed twisted... EVIL. Her eyes froze in a deathly stare and she said the five words that will reduce even the surliest brute to a blubbering puddle of fear.

Joy: What's that supposed to mean?

Even I was rendered speechless just imagining the conversation. Fitz did manage to survive, but he was a shell of his former self. He spent the rest of the day lumbering around the halls, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Though it takes only a few hours for the spine to return to it's solid state, it would be several days before he could face Joy again.

We can only hope he learned a valuable lesson from his encounter and never makes that mistake in the future.

The Time I May Have Set In Motion The End Of Mankind...

I've mentioned our little war we've had going on with the ants that seem to be in such large numbers around here. We've managed to get the situation under control (and our electric kettle working again) but the war with them is ongoing and one of the things that we always have to look out for is any food left out in the open. It's weird but that seems to attract a lot more of them.

source

Usually, when we go into the kitchen, at least one or two the little buggers are always there, scouting for any carelessly exposed food to run home and tell the others about. And they don't miss a thing. To deal with this, we rely a lot on either putting things into sealed containers or in the fridge, but that practice isn't always followed.

Like last night. Someone left the bread out on the counter and, as you may have guessed, they found it and they were loving it. Since it was just the last bit of it, I wasn't too broken up about tossing it...

But then, you see, I kinda had this bright idea...

Before I tossed the bread, ants and all, I... thought... I'd just... putthebreadinthemicrowaveandkilltheantsfirst! Just for a few seconds.

Anyway, it didn't work. Thirty seconds later, I took it out and they were still scurrying around all over that bread. The only difference now was the bread was warmer and this was starting to get their attention, but they weren't really trying to get away. So I put it back in again. This time, I gave it 45 seconds more.

DON'T JUDGE ME!

By the way, did you know that bread does this weird, melty thing when you nuke it for too long. I did *not* know that.

To my surprise, the ants still survived, but they definitely didn't want any more of that bread. I guess at this point, it must have felt like trudging through hot, white mud. I forgot about them for a few seconds as I examined the new gooey consistency of the bread and hadn't noticed most of them were getting away. Many even made it back to the crevices and cracks that provide them safe passage around the kitchen.

It didn't occur to me until after that I had just exposed them to all those microwaves and sent them back to mingle with the rest of the colony. So if there's some new ant-borne super virus sweeping the earth in the near future, um, my bad.

Worse yet is if the ants develop super intelligence and begin waging war on human kind. I mean, they're already way too organized as is. Have you seen the video that shows the inside of an ant colony?

No way these things should be made any smarter!

This one's totally on me, guys! Whatever comes, just know I accept full responsibility and they'll probably come after me first for killing so many of their brethren in our earlier skirmishes anyway.

Where My Mind Wanders To When I Find Strange Things In My Pocket.

Me: Hi!

Clerk: Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?

Me: Hi. I'd like to see No. 111.

Clerk: Excuse me?

Me: No. 111. I bought this shirt here a few days ago and I found this tag in the pocket. It says I should return this shirt to No. 111 if there's a fault or a defect.

Clerk: Oh. Is there a problem?

Me: Are you No. 111?

Clerk: No, I'm Cindy. But if you explained the problem, maybe I could help.

Me: Well... Okay... But it really says I should talk to No. 111...

Cindy: So, what seems to be the problem?

Me: It has this weird smell.

Cindy: It does? (*smells shirt*) Oh! Oh my! I'm so sorry, sir! I don't  know how this could have happened. If you have your receipt, I can exchange it for you.

Me: No worries. Here.

Cindy: If you don't mind me asking, didn't you notice the odour when you bought it?

Me: It didn't smell like that when I bought it.

Cindy: It didn't?

Me: No. It smelled like that when I got home. From work.

Cindy: Ummm... So you wore it?

Me: Yeah. To work! I work now. Awesome, right?! I can't stop talking about it.

Cindy: Well... congratulations.

Me: Thank you. Anyway, when I got home, I took it off and a few hours later, there was that smell.

Cindy: Oh. I have to ask. Did you sweat?

Me: Did I!?! I sweat all the time. I think I have hyperactive sweat glands. That's how much I sweat.

Cindy: Then maybe it's possible that the scent came from your sweating then?

Me: Uh-uh! No way! I thought you'd try to say something like that so I brought this.

Cindy: That's-

Me: My deodorant.

Cindy: I'm confused...

Me: Hello! De.o.do.rant! As in it takes the odour away. No way it could have been me.

Cindy: It doesn't-

Me: And what about the fact that the shirt was wet when I got home. It was hot yesterday. Not a drop of rain.

Cindy: Well... the sweating...

Me: Ah-HA! Look again. See?  It's also an antiperspirant. It blocks perspiring. Nice try, Cindy.

Cindy: Sir, I... You said you did sweat-

Me: You know what? Lemme talk to No. 111. I bet he or she could sort this out.

Cindy: Sir, these shirts are made in England. Whoever 111 is, they're all the way over there. I don't know the inspectors.

Me: Trying to stall me, huh? What's your number? I need to report this.

Cindy: I don't have a number, sir. Besides, there isn't anything we can really do for you.

Me: Well, that's not a very helpful attitude. It's no wonder you don't haven't been given a number yet. Is it, Cindy?

A Trip To The Dentist.

I'll admit that I'm not the strictest person when it comes to dental hygiene. I mean, I take care of my teeth well enough. I brush twice a day and even floss. So they aren't all rotted and falling out or anything like that. My breath is normal and they look just fine, thank you. They're basically healthy. But, truth is, I could just be a little more... diligent, is what I'm saying. I have a bit of a sweet tooth and I could visit the dentist other than in cases of emergency a bit more regularly.

Needless to say, I get the occasional cavity from time to time. The last time was three or four years ago when a premolar needed a root canal (not a fun time). Yesterday, I had to make another trip to the dentist's office for a new cavity that developed on yet another premolar tooth.

Hoo boy!

This time, though, the whole thing was pretty uneventful. The cavity just needed to be filled. That's all! The dentist was a woman about my age who was very pleasant and not too hard on the eyes either (all of which made the easy process a lot easier). The whole thing was over quickly and painlessly. In fact, it was so painless that I spent half the rest of yesterday not being able to feel my upper lip from the painkillers. Not so much fun when I had to eat later. The only thing that was a little unsettling during the whole thing, though, was the x-ray.

Honestly, is that little lead bib really enough to do the job?

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Did you think that was it? This is the part where I remind you to make sure and check out my story on Sprocket Ink today. I won't give it all away but it involves this awesome equation: Japan + robots + models in funny helmets = click here. You know you want to.