I’m going to post something I wrote years ago in the 1995 timeframe. I gave up, obviously, but what I did write down is pretty damn funny. Read on. Updates from my time in Houston will be forthcoming, incidentally, but in the meantime please step into the DeLorean time machine and enjoy this *fictionalized* recounting of a Day In The Life of a Houston Chronicle District Office Worker.

I woke up this morning, Friday, at 8:28 A.M. After blinking my eyes several
times and convincing myself that, yes, I was going to be late for work, I got
up. I waived the usual shower, shave, and deodorant and moved directly into
the ”hell, I’ll wear that” zone. After a hasty departure from my house, I
arrived at my job location at 8:50 A.M. I hopped out of my car, put a ”gosh
I’ve had a tough morning” look onto my face, and proceeded towards the rear
entrance of the house. To the left of the gate is a concrete dog forever
standing guard against any concrete intruders who might cross its path.
I shoved the dog aside and removed the house keys from the secret compartment beneath him (or her — I can’t quite tell). Using the gold key with the ridges that aren’t very even, I opened the door and threw the keys back into the
compartment, unceremoniously shoving the dog back over and thus completing the transaction.
I walked into the house and everyone was still asleep. Good deal! I walked
over to the antique telephone that’s in the living room and yanked its plug
out of the wall. Once accomplishing this deception, I quietly walked up the
staircase and entered The Office. I gracefully floated into my usual chair
and began flipping switches on the various pieces of computer equipment that
were at my disposal. Logging into the Chronicle’s computer involves calling
it, entering a password, and then it calls you back. This causes the phones
to ring in the house… but… since I disconnected the only phone which can
be heard upstairs, my boss’ sleep continued unabated. I fumbled around for
a good 15 minutes and sized up all of the complaints that people had left on
the machine. Unfortunately, one of the messages on the machine was left by
myself when I first woke up. I made the decision that once I heard all of
the messages that I’d have to erase the tape with the bulk eraser (a large magnet
used to erase videotapes that my boss happens to keep in a box full of crap
in the office closet — whether she knows that I know about it is another
matter). I decompressed 45 minutes of work into two hours. My boss
groggily came into the room. ”Hello Mrs. Roper,” I thought to myself in
silence while waving her in. She was wearing a giant blue robe which
closely resembled a boat tarp. She seems to enjoy wearing the blue boat
tarp and I have no qualms about her covering herself to that extent. After
some meaningless chat, I brought up all the high points of my morning, trying to
emphasize that I was saving them from bankruptcy with my every move. She
excused herself and left the room to drink several cups of coffee and a eat
a large pat of butter smeared onto cheap cookies, presumably to make certain
that she didn’t lose any of the weight that she’d gained the previous day.
I stretched and stretched my work until I ran out of it. I then turned on
the cable box and TV in the office and switched from The Discovery Channel
to E! in hopes that the O.J. trial would be on. I was disappointed. O.J. wouldn’t
start until noon. So, I picked up the telephone, called a customer that
I was supposed to contact in order to confirm that, yes, they actually did
order the paper. The phone just rang and rang and rang. I kept my eye on
E! and held up the printout with the customer’s phone number. I did this
for a good 42 minutes while some poor guy’s phone rang at least 500 times
in the background of my thoughts. Mrs. Roper interrupted my streak at
12:26 P.M. ”It’s almost time to go” she exclaimed. ”I’m just trying to
reach this customer you were concerned about” I replied. ”Oh good!” she
managed. After a moment or two, I sighed heavily and hung up the phone.
”It must have rung at least 500 times,” I noted. She laughed, thinking
that I was joking…