Can't Believe His Eyes

There's a mechanic at my dealership who is in a class above the rest.
I don't say this in reference to his ability to fix cars, heavens knows I know nothing about that. I mean simply that his work ethic is top-notch and his people skills are quality.

Often times, he is the only one busy in the shop. He never stops moving.
There was a power outage some months back and he refused to take a break even then, finding ways to keep working even in the dark.

And the guy must be in his late fifties, early sixties. You don't have to see his pure white hair to know that he's no spring chicken.

Yet he goes about his business pleasantly and quietly.
Always on top of his tasks, sometimes literally when perched atop his station's desk while taking a quick lunch break.

So when someone began up the stairs to my little office a few days ago, I was relieved to see it was him.

After asking my office manager a few questions, he smiled politely at me then went on his merry way.

Trouble was, that quick smile had caught me off guard.
Something was... different about him.

"Was there something wrong with his eyes today?", I mentioned.

"His real eye?", she responded?

"Real.. eye?..." I was confused.

"You know he has a glass eye, right?", she responded, with a look that seriously doubted my sincerity.

*mouth agape*

 I wanted to reply with an "Are you SH**ING ME!??" but an "Are you serious!?" had to suffice.

Sure enough, I had been working, oftentimes within close proximity with said technician for six months now and had yet to notice that one of his eyes is entirely made of glass.

Call me Captain Oblivious, but that's the honest truth.

I can't decide whether I'm horribly unobservant or just don't look people in the eyes, er..., eye. But either way, my blatant disregard of very obvious and strange phenomenon astounds me.

What's next?
A prosthetic arm in the body shop? The cashier wears a wig? Our used car salesman has no eyebrows?...

Mark my words, if I find out the owner has a peg leg, I'm going to dig a hole and die.

Ravin' at my Writing Desk

I've finally done it! Life goal accomplished!

Remember how my only professional ambition is to get a desk where no one can see my computer screen other than me? Well mission accomplished, because I am now sitting behind a desk in my own little corner at the top of the stairs. Have been for several months now.

You may think that sounds dreary, but there's a window...
Plus, I'm sort of a vampire when it comes to my preference of dark and cave-like surroundings.

You can also thank my recent re-emergence in the blog world for this advancement. If I had remained downstairs as a lowly cashier, my efforts to write entirely meaningless posts about random thoughts/happenings in my life would have been thwarted.

Now I'm free to type away.
I know you're real happy about that.

Granted, I do have a small heart attack every time someone pages my phone.
Why I think they can somehow see what I'm doing continues to confuse me?...

Regardless, I must have an incredibly guilty conscience. Why? I do not know.

It's not like I'm doing anything illegal.
Blogger is a safe site, right? I hardly think my computer's integrity will be compromised.

And the owner can't expect me to sit here and do nothing once I've completed my daily tasks, can he? Well... he probably can. But the point being: I'd rather pretend to be incredibly busy all day long by dividing my workload into littler pieces that are separated with small bouts of Facebook browsing and Blogger updates.

Genius, no?

And, I hate to brag, but I've pretty much perfected the 'pretend messy desk'.

(This duality is the source of all my problems.)

Granted, the 'piles' of paperwork are already completed and lie in neat little stacks that I try to place haphazardly. Not exactly the easiest scam for me to pull off successfully, but it seems to be working beautifully.

So there you have it. I'm calling my professional endeavors a huge success.
One, because I am able to fool everyone else into thinking I'm busy and two, because I just wrote this entire post at work.

Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am.