The missing mug is back at my desk, safe and sound. I put out an APB via company-wide email yesterday and had it back in my hands within five minutes. One of our lower echelon worker bees brought it over with a sheepish look on his face and said, “Sorry. It was so cool, I had to borrow it. I washed it out for you.”

The mug says Chuck. His name? Shane. Yeah, that’s cool. What a freak.

I washed it out for me too.

I have a coffee mug here at the office that’s very special to me. I know I’m a loser for being attached to a mug, but there it is. The sad thing is that I don’t even have a reason for being so attached to this mug, it’s not like someone special gave it to me or it signifies the time I got the Big Promotion or anything like that. No, I just like it. I like it so much that this is actually Mug2, because Mug1 ended up shattered all over the lunchroom floor about 2 years ago in a horrible mugwashing acccident and I went on eBay and bid like a madman to win the identical Mug2. I can’t remember the details but I’m sure I paid far too much for it. Plus shipping.

It’s not just your standard white ceramic coffee mug, this one is cooler than that. It’s just like your standard white ceramic coffee mug, but with a Far Side cartoon on it: In a cavelike setting surrounded by flames, two guys are sitting up in separate beds and one is saying to the other, “Relax, Chuck, you’re just having a nightmare. Of course, we are still in Hell.” Appropriate for work, don’t you think? And it even has my name on it.

That’s the thing, right there: It has MY NAME on it. It’s not a generic mug that someone could “accidentally” pick up and start using. It may not jump right out at you saying “This is Chuck’s mug!” but still, it has my name on it. You’d think that would clue people in that, hey, this isn’t your mug, nipplehead. But apparently not, since it’s gone. It’s not in the cupboard by the coffee machine, it’s not at my desk, it’s not in the dishwasher, it’s not in the kitchen on the other side of the building.

No, my mug is just MIA — and I use the IA advisedly, because I’m sure it’s in action somewhere in this office. Some asshole is drinking coffee out of MY MUG even as I write this. And even though many of my co-workers are complete and utter morons, I don’t think any of them are so stupid that they can’t read where it says “Relax, CHUCK…” Whoever it is that has it doesn’t think it’s their mug; they know they’re a mugnapper.

You know what the very worst thing about this is? I just know they’re drinking coffee with cream and sugar. My mug has been raised on a pure diet of black coffee, because anything else is just wrong. Like the old truck-stop saying goes, “If you wanted a cup of cream and sugar, why’d you order coffee?”

But as bad as that is, it could be even worse. It could be exposed to :::shudder::: flavored coffee.

Hazelnut.

Aaaahhhhh…

My own bed. My own couch. My own computer. My own wife and daughter. Even my own stupid animals.

It’s good to be home.

Posting from a Shibby terminal in the Denver airport because I’m just that kind of geek on the go. Next stop: Burbank airport.

Boarding begins immediately. See ya…

Ladies and gentlemen, the Elvis tattoo has left the building.

Thank you, Bozeman, and good night!

Dreadful news came from Zoe’s school today. The lovely Sherilyn‘s kid will not be attending after all.

Damn.

I was so looking forward to PTA meetings. And bake sales. And the school picnic. And the car wash fundraiser I was planning. Especially the car wash.

Sigh…

This is night #8 away from home on this trip, with two more days (one more night) to go. Maybe it was the long weekend, but this trip feels longer than usual. I’m ready to be home now and the fact that I still have to get through another 42 hours isn’t helping. Yes, that’s right, I’m down to counting hours now. The best part is that Zoe’s first day back to school is tomorrow and I won’t be there to take her. Great.

Wah. I wanna go home.

I’m in a small, very quiet conference room, just me and one of the supervisors from my company’s Customer Support department who came out on the road with me to “observe” this conversion. Very quiet, very look busy-ish… And I’m reading The Sneeze and trying desperately not to laugh out loud. I think she thinks I’m having convulsions.

Susie Lee done fell in love;
She planned to marry Joe.
She was so happy ’bout it all
She told her Pappy so.

Pappy told her, “Susie gal,
You’ll have to find another.
I’d just as soon your Ma don’t know,
But Joe is your half brother”

So Susie put aside her Joe
And planned to marry Will.
But after telling Pappy this,
He said, “There’s trouble still…

You can’t marry Will, my gal,
And please don’t tell your Mother,
But Will and Joe and several more
I know is your half brother”

But Mama knew and said, “My child,
Just do what makes you happy.
Marry Will or marry Joe.
You ain’t no kin to Pappy.”