I was late in beginning my morning break's exercise, a jaunt around the path surrounding the office...it's around a mile. I dawdled, and found myself with just shy of ten minutes with which to complete the course. I elected instead to only follow the bordering sidewalks around the building.

As I rounded a corner, I heard Brenda's voice upon the air...or rather her laugh—full-bodied and rolling. Electing to give her her space—I had not had a good morning...my stomach went on strike, delaying my readying process...I hit every possible red light...I was rushing and out of breath...I was a study in anxiety during my many excursions to Brenda's desk...so much so that she muttered towards the end, "I don't want to see you again."

I got back to my desk several minutes before training resumed, and emailed my aunt to tease,

I think I heard your laugh just a bit ago as I circled the building.

It's infectious.

Are you drunk?

:-P

Chuckling to myself, knowing the level of propriety sought at this company, I sent the message...and had to refrain from snorting when her reply came quickly to set me straight:

Nope, we were talking about boobs!