Just when you think there is not one single thing to smile about; when you are convinced the world will end by Friday; when you have stared at the flashing cursor on your computer screen for three days without being able to think of one single thing to write about that does not pertain to our impending doom, that is the moment that your a.d.d, o.c.d, germ-a-phobic, metrosexual, damn near perfect, never get his hands dirty boss, trips over the handle to your stunning new fall handbag. (The handbag that you purchased in spite of the fact that very soon you will have no use for a stunning new handbag, because the world is ending on Friday).
For the first time in days, you laugh! You laugh because Mr. Fussy Pants trips while carrying a pint-sized container of Bar B -Que sauce. When the sauce flies six feet in the air, then rains down, covering the walls and the carpet of your office, not to mention your stunning new handbag, you laugh, because when your boss is covered in sauce? That is nothing short of hilarious. It is pee in your pants funny.
When your sauce covered boss (who looks like an extra in a scene from the Texas Chain Saw Massacre) threatens to fire you, or kill you, if you do not shut up immediately this just adds fuel to the fire. You cannot stop. You continue to laugh until tears roll down your cheeks. When the only sound you can make is an intermittent snort because you cannot breathe--this my friends is greatness! It makes life worth living. It gives you something to blog about. It is a reminder that it is only Tuesday. We still have three whole days until the world ends.