The Frank, Terry, Jeanna and Colorpass 2000 Conspiracy

The guys who deliver the big five-gallon jugs of water to my office haven’t been seen in two weeks.

In case you were wondering why this is bad, I offer up the following irrefutable reasons.

- I cannot make coffee.

- Probably they were murdered in some dark alley or something.

- I cannot make coffee.

- Their families probably miss them

- Without using water from the bathroom, I cannot make coffee.

As you can see, this is a crisis.

Of course there is always the chance that after their last visit, during which I cornered them both and made them pick from a list of names for my dog, they simply decided not to come back.

(Editor’s note: It is NOT my dog. It is my roommate’s dog. Nevertheless I couldn’t very well let her name it Chloe, could I? Chloe means “green shoot.” Okay fine, I voted for Chloe. But seriously why not? It’s a pit bull for crying out loud, though I’m not sure how that’s relevant.)

But the reason doesn’t really matter does it? Discovering what craziness has prevented them from coming to me does not solve the underlying problem that without THEM I am also without COFFEE – resulting in shoddy work, unclear thoughts, slurred words, drooling and strong suicidal tendencies. Plus the above italic note. Do you see what coffee deficiency does to me?

Before you start trying to confiscate my shoelaces, no I am not actually suicidal, nor do I think suicide is funny most of the time.

Also the printer keeps jamming but only when I print. That traitor Jeanna never has any problems printing.