I do not anticipate walking into the kitchen, seeing the surroundings and then feeling pride in the care my coworkers have toward others in their ability to clean up after themselves. No, I do not ever anticipate having a feeling of pride brought on by the snapperheads that continually pollute the sink. This morning though, I was not as outraged.
Why would I be proud of this familiar scene? Well don't you see... that is a CLEAN bottle of dish soap in the sink. One might construe that as an infantile step in the right direction. Unfortunately, these adults with the social responsibility of mere infants stopped their progress towards metaphorical bipedal motion there. Still we see a sponge and both dish scrubbers in the sink.
"The sink surface is not filthy enough, I think I will jam the cleaning implements business-end first into the Sarlacc-esque chasm that is infested with all sorts of fun bacterial beasties."
While I appreciate your attention to Star Wars references in your thought process, I want to suspend you in the air with The Force and wing clementines at you from a short distance away. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."
Don't you see that your lack of cleanliness is the path to the dark side? Also, I fear that I hate you and I will make you suffer if this shit keeps up, you freaking window-licker.
Speaking of windows, what is going on here?
Is it just me, or is this an exorbitant amount of vases to have? Was there at one point this many people with flowers in their cubes and offices? You know what this is? More fucking laziness.
"Oh my petunia died. I am going to plop the vase in the kitchen and hope somebody else uses it."
I guess I should just be thankful that they are clean.
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