It wasn’t a bad Monday, as Mondays go. There was still a chocolate chip cookie in a knotted plastic bag on top of the file cabinet where our supervisor leaves treats for us. She doesn’t do that so very often but, when she does, she brings the good stuff. This one was my favorite store brand, thick and packed full of chunky chocolate chips.
She bought this particular cookie last Monday or Tuesday; can’t remember exactly which day, but it had to be one of those two days, because I left town on Wednesday morning and didn’t come back until Saturday, and I know I ate at least two chocolate chip cookies from that bag. This last cookie somehow survived the week. That’s really unusual. The people I work with are more ravenous than a pack of starved dogs, especially when it comes to sweets.
After I said good morning to Romona and exchanged a few pleasantries, I eyed the bag and said something like, “Thanks for saving a cookie for me.” She wrinkled her nose and expressed some doubt that it was any good after a week. Pfft. It passed the sniff test, and it didn’t have any visible mold growing on it, so I took it back to my desk and wolfed it down. Happy Monday.
This Is Drivel 