I have to go back to work Monday. And clean up the dead granny in my cube. Yes, a dead grandmother. You see, the boss gave us orders to decorate for Christmas. Most of the cubes had been decorated with snowmen or santas or twinkling lights. Or my co-workers had “wrapped” their cubes in holiday paper, with bows. Frankly, I was sick of it. It looked tacky. And I wanted to make a statement. Or was it an anti-statement?
“So, Wolf, can you stay after 5 tonight, to decorate your cube? You know you are the only one who hasn’t done any decorating. It doesn’t show any team spirit.”
“Yeah yeah yeah. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
The next day, same story: “We really need to have everyone participate in the decorating this year, Wolf.”
“Ok I hear you.”
I procrastinated. I love to procrastinate. It brings out the edginess in people. They start to fidget and fluff and blow smoke.
“Hey Wolf. Can I talk to you, in private? Do you need some help? I mean, your cube is really an embarrassment.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. I am giving it consideration.”
“Well, give it some snappy thought. Time is running out.”
The pressure was mounting. The lights in the office were twinkling, like the galaxy and my cube was the black hole.
I drove home in a funk. I turned on the radio. Christmas music was playing. Granny got run over by a reindeer. That’s it. I will decorate my cube with Granny.
I found a large stuffed animal. I put my old ski cap on its head. I dressed her in a long yellow skirt and sneakers, and then covered her with a blanket on which I had painted reindeer hoofs, I found an old moth eaten reindeer and planted the damn beast beside her. It was a work of art. At least it was to me.
I think my cube was the best of times and the worst of times. My co-workers either loved it or hated it. Someone even added a makeshift tomb stone to the ghoulish display.
So now on Monday, I have to get rid of Granny. Darn it. I actually grew quite fond of her. Maybe I can revive her for Halloween.