When I got to work this morning, there were four snowmen on my desk.

The fact that there are snowmen on my desk is not the issue. The real problem is that when I left the office last night, there were only two snowmen on my desk. They are multiplying. Hide your carrots.

Truthfully, I am not that alarmed – the snowmen were accompanied by a penguin and a bear. I still have not caught up on my sleep and am barely functioning, so it might be that all of this didn’t really happen – but I’m pretty sure it did, and I’m amused as all hell that this kind of thing is relatively normal over here.

It’s Fancy Times in the office today – there are photographers about taking pictures of the office and some of the staff. They want to update our website to show that we have a fun, vibrant, diverse place to work so certain people were asked to dress a little better than we normally do (we work in IT – all hail jeans and t-shirts [concert tees for the sysadmins; software swag tees for support]). I’m a little cranky about it, though – neither me nor my desk were asked to be a part of our new image. I am offended, because I have the most awesome desk in the company:

I suppose I can somewhat understand my personal exclusion in the pictures (even though I am the walking definition of “diverse, vibrant and fun”) – when someone tells me to “dress up a little”, I inevitably show up looking like a French prostitute circa 1882. Since we sell the internet and are not a brothel, I guess I can forgive the slight. I hate my face and the universe a little less today, so I will tell myself that I am just too awesome (and busty) to be featured on the website (instead of the usual “you can’t market Mama Cass” song and dance).

Know what I miss? I miss parties.

these were some good times