Semi-Daily Scribbles

While Gloria's dogs were cooling off in the grass, and the marinated 3-bean salad she packed for lunch had been reduced to three beans staring back at her from an oil slick, she wondered what would happen if she were to laugh at every question directed at her for the rest of the day. Would she be called into Jim Bryant's office for a word? Would Franny pop her head over the cubicle wall and ask if Gloria needed anything? Granola bar? Midol? A hug? Franny was a fixer. Too bad Gloria often had to go over Franny's reports and fix her work. Did Gloria need anything? Yes, for Franny to take a remedial math class. Her co-workers' incompetency and feigned concern over Gloria's little difficulties were the reasons why she was brusque with everyone in the office. She couldn't even look these people in the eye without disdain and overwhelming sadness. Gloria pondered her new tactic, and decided a laugh in the face (or rather faces) of idiocy just might make Jim, or Franny, feel the stifling isolation she felt every day in their company.