Hose Monster Blog

7.01.2004

So my employer for the summer (and I hope beyond) has done themselves pretty well by me.

I have a 35th floor office with a window looking out to the ocean. I can see the planes taking off from LAX, and on days where the marine layer rolls in and out without leaving a cloud cover, I can see all the way out to Catalina. They pay me well, give me very interesting and enjoyable work (though lots of it, but I know my future will have that much work, so I don't care now), and feed me all the time. Literally. This week I will buy three meals for myself for the first time since the job started, and that will happen only because I have elected to work through the lunch hours to try and finish up a big project.

But today I discovered the biggest benefit of this job: my aromatherapy highlighter.

I had used a more traditional emphasis tool for the last couple of weeks because whoever stocked my office gave me that. No sweat. But given the amount of highlighting I do when researching, I exhausted the first yellow marker's potentcy before the summer had passed. So I made a trip to the supply room and restocked my drawer.

Unbeknownst to me of course, was the rush of fake lemon scent that wafted toward my nose as I read about Medicare prescription drug coverage.

My soul took a magical journey through small Arizona communities, where lemon trees drop delightful fruits in the yards of the queer ducks who live there. I thought of summer lemonade in my youthful days, lemon-flavored alcoholic drinks in my formative years, and the lemon I enjoy in a nice glass of Hefeweizen as my booze tastes mature. The delight of my aromatherapy highlighter instantly transported me to another time, where the devilish ways of Congress' language tortures me not, and leaves me instead hoping that the next page will have more crucial language that I must identify and analyze for my superiors.

Oh, I cannot wait to discover the delights resting under the caps of the other colored highlighters now sitting in my drawer, and the magical feelings they shall provoke in me.


This week's honorary Hose Monster: No One Dan the Goose Tom from Orby Online "The Ultimate Renaissance Man" -Kool Keith "I heart hosemonster" -Fat Sarah "Hose Monster = Hero" "The king of political talk" "The voice of reason in all this chaos" -The Ward "A lot of sense" -Orby Online "Writing so good it should be illegal or at least expensive" -Mad Little Ponies Her Meeshness interviews the Hose Monster Another Hose Monster interview with a beautiful girl 80 things about the Hose Monster 20 things about the Hose Monster All Archives Bathroom Conversations Cell Phones Piss Cabin Flushing Magazines Cold Toilet Nohr Nohr 1 Nohr 2 She Inspires Me Old Flames Blue Thong Rain Saturday Morning More Rain Waking Dream Tony Pierce Ultrablognetic Meeshness Moxie Jam Sandwhich Off-Wing Opinion Dan the Goose Mad Pony Ham Fisted Theatrics E-mail Me	7.01.2004 So my employer for the summer (and I hope beyond) has done themselves pretty well by me. I have a 35th floor office with a window looking out to the ocean. I can see the planes taking off from LAX, and on days where the marine layer rolls in and out without leaving a cloud cover, I can see all the way out to Catalina. They pay me well, give me very interesting and enjoyable work (though lots of it, but I know my future will have that much work, so I don't care now), and feed me all the time. Literally. This week I will buy three meals for myself for the first time since the job started, and that will happen only because I have elected to work through the lunch hours to try and finish up a big project. But today I discovered the biggest benefit of this job: my aromatherapy highlighter. I had used a more traditional emphasis tool for the last couple of weeks because whoever stocked my office gave me that. No sweat. But given the amount of highlighting I do when researching, I exhausted the first yellow marker's potentcy before the summer had passed. So I made a trip to the supply room and restocked my drawer. Unbeknownst to me of course, was the rush of fake lemon scent that wafted toward my nose as I read about Medicare prescription drug coverage. My soul took a magical journey through small Arizona communities, where lemon trees drop delightful fruits in the yards of the queer ducks who live there. I thought of summer lemonade in my youthful days, lemon-flavored alcoholic drinks in my formative years, and the lemon I enjoy in a nice glass of Hefeweizen as my booze tastes mature. The delight of my aromatherapy highlighter instantly transported me to another time, where the devilish ways of Congress' language tortures me not, and leaves me instead hoping that the next page will have more crucial language that I must identify and analyze for my superiors. Oh, I cannot wait to discover the delights resting under the caps of the other colored highlighters now sitting in my drawer, and the magical feelings they shall provoke in me.