Work, Where Business Happens

I have a job.  It's not exactly the job of my dreams, but it ain't terrible and it pays alright.  Office jobs can be monotonous.  It's enough to make you go a little crazy.  But that's irrelevant.  I'm still perfectly sane.  Here's a tour of my office.

This is my cubicle.  It's where business happens.

This is my staple remover.  His name is Jaws.  He helps me do business.

This is the copier.  Her name is Minerva.  She does lots of business with me.

These are the boxes where I pack business that used to happen.

This is my stamp.  I call him Justice.  He gives me most of my power and authority, essential components for business.

This is my letter opener.  His name is Slippy.  Business can't start unless all letters are open.

This is the break room.  Business doesn't happen here.  J/K!  Business never stops.  You should learn that.  Now.  Learn it.

This is my phone.  He's new, so I haven't named him.  But he'll start making business happen soon enough.

This is my hole punch.  I call him Falcon.  Then when I use him I yell "FALCON PUUUUNCH!"  And when people ask what I'm doing, I say "Business".  The stapler and I aren't on speaking terms.


See?  Working in an office doesn't make you go crazy.  But the one thing I can't figure out is why the heck FedEx won't let me ship my blood!

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