Feeling Dirty
Posted on Wednesday, January 6th, 2010 at 4:19 pm
photo credit: nevermindtheend
Let’s talk keyboards. See, I’m working with one—how do you not work with one? It would be almost like working without a computer, and goodness knows how we’d get anything done then!
Anyway, when you’re a freelancer you end up getting put at any number of desks with any number of keyboards. The only thing they have in common, really, is that they all have keys, unless you’re working at a really low-brow sort of institution. Oh, and they’re all dirty as hell. (I apologize for the picture and if it makes you want to throw up, cause it makes me want to throw up, and in fact I am averting my eyes quickly so as not to do so.)
But why so dirty, Gertie? Is it that freelancers have especially disgusting hands, or are particularly messy, or are stubborn enough to insist on eating their shrimp foo young over the keyboard? Whatever the reason, it’s gross, and kinda puts the fear of e. coli in my heart and/or stomach, especially when I look down. And especially when I’m hungover. Which is kinda—now.
Last night had a lovely evening out with M. and H. and the gang, starting at a pub in the West Village, moving along for burritos, and ending the night at a bar on the Lower East Side that I don’t even know the name of, which is always a good sign.
And so here I sit, counting down the 2 more hours until departure from this place of business and hoping that the rather vile and greasy buffet Chinese food that I ate with a fork and purchased for the purposes of sopping the Sauvignon Blanc does its trick, and soon.
Cause this whole staying out til 4 am on a school night thing? Way overrated. And hell to pay the next day.
Now I must go wash my tender hands before I come down with something catching.
