To relieve the monotony, I hung some decorative colored balls above my cubicle. They disappeared. Taken down, I suspect, by the person who cleans out the refrigerator every Friday and throws away the banana I didn't eat on Tuesday.
The department secretary, who keeps us in line, comes in at about 7 am every day. My boss follows shortly thereafter, and the rigidity settles over us like a cloud. I started coming in at 6:30, so I could have at least a few minutes of running in the halls, etc. Sometimes I crank up the music. Because I am now the first to arrive, I make the coffee.
We have this coffee maker that dispenses directly into a push button thermos-style coffee pot. It keeps the coffee warm and fairly fresh for hours. They provide us with single-pot bags of Starbucks coffee. You cut the bag, pour the contents into the filter, put the pot underneath, and push "start". Five minutes later, you have coffee.
When I worked in the ICU, they gave us crappy Farmers Brothers coffee, and an ancient coffee pot that sputtered. We had heard that the "offices" got Starbucks coffee, and we complained about it, but they invoked "the budget" to shut us up.
And now, here I am.
When I first started making coffee, I followed office culture and put a little sticky note on it with the date and time-- Tue 06:45.
This is what they did. Occasionally, someone would write the type of coffee as well-- wed 07:15 Sumatra.
One day, instead of writing Sumatra, I wrote tue 0630--Bobby Blue Blend. And so it began.
I started thinking about what I would name the coffee as I drove in to work every tuesday. Sometimes it would be something in the news--blue state blend, eclipse blend. Sometimes it might be something I heard on the radio--cat power blend. Often, it would just be some obscure bit of information floating around in my head.
A person from administration asked, "Why is someone naming the coffee?"
One day, the semi-reclusive (but friendly) IT guy came in early and made the coffee. He left a note:
I had won.
So on friday of last week, I was driving in and thinking about an old Pink Floyd song. Not old like Dark Side of the Moon--real old. A particular song title came to mind, and I knew what I had to do.
And so it goes.