Flat Stanley's Day of Horror

Last night Blooger wouldn't properly upload pictures. In the morning, I was delighted to see Horror on my computer. I had to wait for the plumber to get the hot water fixed, so I had me a little extra time to think this morning- and that's usually how I get myself in trouble- by thinking.
Well, maybe it's not the thinking that's the problem, it's the ideas and thoughts that come with thinking that mess things up. I started thinking that trying to make sense out of why people do what they do is about as easy and useful as trying to make a canoe out of mud. Just thinking about all that crazy uselessness made me want to do something crazy of my own. So I took Horror out on a Flat Stanley Day.

First, we had coffee and blogs."Look," squealed a giggly Horror, "I'm on TV!"

So what else is new? Fuck, I'm running late waiting for work because I had to wait for a shower- I'd better drive in and eat the parking costs...damn.

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You know, by the time I pay for tolls and parking, I'll lose money by rushing to work. It costs almost twice as much to park for a day as I make in a hour- I'll save money by arriving at work later. I love this logic!
I opt for the noon bus. Honestly, I wasn't too keen on driving around with Horror, so the bus was kinda my excuse to keep Horror off the road, if you understand.


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I'll give Horror credit for this : It can sell the motherfuckin' hell out of some newspapers. The last time I saw this box empty was after the Harvey family murders.

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"No one likes me," pouted a petulant Horror as it sat alone on a cold metal bench.

If only that were true, I thought.

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Usually, I relax and read on the bus, but today it was hard to concentrate with Horror looking at me like that.

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Downtown Horror. It's not so bad really, except the clock in the tower Horror is leaning on has some chimes that are seriously out of tune.

It's horrible on the hour.

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Well, here we are. There's nothing between me and the office except traffic and Horror.
That's pretty much the case every day.

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I do not like elevators. They don't exactly fill me with Horror, but they do make me nervous. Going up?
Crowd me in with Horror and it's more like throwing up.

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Horror likes a good cup of coffee but we don't have that kind here. I give it some decaf and hope it settles down. I have work to do and don't have time to busy myself with Horror.

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Horror awaits me at my desk.

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I guess all those newspapers Horror sold had to go somewhere.

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I've seen a few training flicks about what to do in case of a mailroom Terror incident, but I'm really not sure what to do with Horror. My first impulse is to mail it somewhere very, very far away- like to the Sun. The hot part of the Sun.

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I looked at our building's All-You -Can- Eat buffet with Horror and sorta lost my appetite.

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A real Horror NEVER gives it away.

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A little indoor garden of Horror brightens up the lobby.


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And finally, home with Horror. It instinctively leapt from my hand and into my mailbox, which is where Horror customarily waits for me in the evening, nestled amongst the bills and pre-approved credit card offers.

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The really weird thing is I spent all day taking pictures of public Horror and no one- not my boss, no one- nobody at all even gave me a second glance or asked what was up with the Horror pics.

That's horrible.