The day began typically. I overslept, forgot to put on deodorant, scarfed down breakfast, and left my lunch in the fridge. I almost missed the subway and in my mad dash, nearly knocked over two tweens. It's like freezing out and I forgot my coat, so I can't move my fingers. Once I made it here, I got "the look" from the supervisor because I was a whopping 10 minutes late. Half the office isn't even here yet. How is that fair?

So, finally, I sit down at my desk and take a deep breath. It's nice to have my own cubicle. Four little half walls to claim as my own space. Ahhh. What am I supposed to be doing today? Wait. What day is it? Shoot. It's Wednesday. Staff meeting. Groaan.

I take off my purse and set it down. I'm cold. Coffee. I need coffee. I skipped that step this morning. You know, the whole wake up and greet the day over "Foldger's in your cup." I hum the jingle. Do they even make that stuff anymore? God- those commercials were on when I was a kid. Standing up slightly, I peer over the front wall of my cubicle. The break room is opposite me. Five cubicles separate us. That is where the coffee lives. I love coffee. Mmm. Coffee. The break room is my friend. I nod good morning to it. I begin to sing to it, swaying my head seductively.

"The best part of waking up..." I startle and hide. An obtrusive, yellow blob has interrupted my morning sonnet. I have been divided from my love. I shudder. It was Cynthia. Cynthia. 200 lb, "relaxed fitted jeans", sour faced, blue eye-liner, Cynthia.

"I saw you Seeny! Yes I did!" She shrilled. My name is Syna: pronounced "see-nah". It means beautiful in some language, but I think my parents just made it up. Stoners.

Anyway, I groan and reappear.

"Morning Cynthia." I drone. She frowns at me.

"You are a wierdo." She informs me, darting down. Wait, let me rephrase. Cynthia does not dart. She does not fall into the "darter" category. Cynthia wobbles and undulates. So we'll say she wobbled into her chair in a "fast manner". I roll my eyes.

I swear, this office is out to get me. At least every other day some random occurrance nearly destroys me. Whether it's the coffee maker falling on me, the Xerox machine nearly decapitating me, or the front door slamming on me, something happens! And that was just this past week. I'm looking around right now trying to secure myself. Pencils, in the pencil holder. Computer monitor is steady, the bottom part potentially wobbly. Note to self: beware the PC.

"Ouch!" I yelped. Yes. I yelp. Not to be confused with "hollar" or "scream" because yelping is in a category in and of itself. Commonly associated with a kicked dog, yelping is a useful tool in expressing one's surprise and or pain in order to draw quick and undivided attention. Plus mine is cute and feminine. So there.

Anyway, someone pinched me. That's why I yelped.