There are times when the only reason I go to work is because my feet hit the floor in the morning. After nearly thirty-nine years of law-related employment, there may be more battles to fight, but I'm relegated to the role of aging veteran, seated in the lawn chair, lap blanket in place, waving a tiny flag at the passing parade. Three cheers.
And then...
One of my office mates is in the phone. He is speaking to who knows whom, and utters a name that can only be a comic book character. Pedro Zulu, crime fighter. But, a fellow supervisor utters--
"The cat is in the garbage can. I repeat."
Explaining why this is one of the funniest things I've ever heard will only take away from the spontaneity of the moment. He is a bright, engaging man with a wicked sense of humor. I can't stop laughing. It reminds me of the great days this profession affords.
I'm going to let my feet hit the floor again tomorrow.
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