Here we come. Right back where we started from.

Good luck to anyone looking to end up sitting at my old desk. It's close to the fire exit (which sounds any time a confused customer pulls on the handle from outside) and as hot and cold as the seasons. But it still was not a bad place to be when everyone was laughing.

Don't go thinking you've gotta be tough and play like a stone

How is there no contingency plan when 50 percent of the staff in your office is injured or recovering from surgery?

I mean I know I was at low capacity for six weeks, but everyone does not have to follow suit. Those of us still working are basically hanging out there by ourselves.

These stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to

It's true.

I dislike Monday mornings.

It's not because I resent the beginning of a new work week or because I didn't get enough sleep over the weekend. I do not like the recap.

Your kid got sick this weekend? Does talking about it make him all better?

You got hammered like you used to in high school? Aren't you in your late 50s?

My weekend? Nothing to tell.

That last one is what I like to hear. Let's stick to that.

Even if it goes against my instincts or want-to, I guess sometimes it's best to to stay quiet for everyone's sake. And then put it down here, apparently.

Said I'm under the gun 'round here

It's funny how things you can get away with saying on a conference call during a good month can totally set off a manager during a bad month. Her current rant actually comes at a good time, because I was really thirsty. Her rhetorical questions are giving me enough time to get something to drink. And make a sandwich. And go pay my cable bill. And volunteer reading the entire "A Christmas Carol" for orphans at the library.

Why they house the orphans at the library I will never understand.

Oh, and how unteachable am I that this is how I'm spending the invaluable time this manager is taking dropping this knowledge bomb on the tiny village that is my brain?

Running around the office like a gerbil on a wheel

It doesn't matter what time the alarm goes off. I will never be that guy who gets to work early. No one should have to be that guy.

Kick-start my rock 'n' roll heart

Today seems to be a day to just drive. Everywhere and nowhere. That has become my uncontested favorite part of this job.

Perhaps I want to drive where I want today because I know that my boss will be riding with me tomorrow, so I will have restrict my whims more. Boo.

To craft the perfect limerick. To wield unending woe.

There is a secret to surviving Monday morning meetings: writing four-line poems by alternating lines with your 50-something-year-old coworker who also enjoys poking fun at everyone and everything.

Take note.

Even when I was flat broke, you made me feel like a million bucks

Always a nice surprise to find you earned a bonus you didn't realize you earned. Cha-ching.

After all of my alibis desert me

Phone conversation in the office this morning:

District manager: Is Ashley (the office manager) there this morning?

Customer service rep: Let me check (puts DM on hold) Where did Ashley go?

Other CSR: She left to go to get some breakfast.

CSR: (takes DM off hold) She's out on sales calls with David.

DM: Oh, ok. What was the deal with that snake in the office?

CSR: Oh yeah. David found it under his desk this morning.

DM: How long was it?

CSR: I don't know. (calls out across the office) David, how long was that snake?

Me: About a foot. And good job hanging Ashley out to dry.

Unto the breach

You can never really live unless you have faced your own mortality, which naturally occurs when driving a 1999 Buick LeSabre well above the speed limit for two hours on a barren interstate while the vehicle's electrical system shuts down every 10 miles.

Many times the collapse was momentary, dimming the lights and slightly lurching the car's random assortment of contents forward a bit. The truly enlightening moments transpired during the brief intervals between the engine completely dying and my quick attempts to revive it.

My reaction always began with a girlish scream, of course, followed by throwing the car into neutral and restarting it at 80 miles per hour. By doing so each time, I once more pushed back my date with death at the hand of a machine.

Throw me a rope or something

So I was a doing a story on government funding delaying a road improvement project in our area. Yeah, my head hurts, too.

Do not pass Go

I just got my check stub today. They might as well pay me in Monopoly money.

Meet me by the flagpole

Be sure to check out our Web site to read about grown men getting into a fistfight... at the school board office, no less.

Went to Mars there for a minute...

...but I'm back now, and I've got T-shirts for everybody!

The newspaper's upgraded Web site just launched, and it has a social networking function now. So I have been working on setting up that profile. In the meantime, this blog became neglected.

The best part is that the newsroom is not only as wide open as ever to hate mail in the guise of criticism, they can now post it directly on our profile pages. Booyah.

Who's FICA? Why's he getting all my money?

My health insurance finally kicked in today. The impact of this is twofold:

1) I will no longer enjoy the thrill of making money because it all goes to making sure I'm covered for things that probably will never happen.
2) I will now wear my Heelys 24/7 with minimal fear of a shattered elbow.

What's wrong with my questions?

A photographer and I were suffering through a local production designed for entertainment recently -- very recently. No particulars because the screen has eyes if you catch my drift.

I posed this question, which got a mixed response from her, "How far do you think can I jam this pen in my ear before I lose consciousness?"

I could hit it with a $2 pistol

It's true, if the "it" was a soda bottle within five feet.

The dart gun I bought for my desk does not have much power -- except the power of fun.

I don't get no satisfaction

But my bosses do. Let's just say my probationary evaluation went well.

It's a Kodak story

My coverage today included attending a picnic for the families of organ donors and organ recipients.

I even got to talk to the mother of a donor who was united face-to-face for the first time today with the man who received her son's pancreas and a kidney.

Tear. Jerker.

Here's my card

I can finally say that. After three months of missing requests and delayed orders, I now have official business cards.

But I only have one box, so I am afraid to use them. Maybe I should put in a request now for when I run out in the coming months.