A useful use of time

Everything was going just so well, perfectly skimming along, until this afternoon. And then, I was overcome with a sudden, overpowering, debilitating, intoxicating craving for a brownie. Just-HAD-to-have-one-or-I'd-DIE kind of overpowering.

So I poked my head surreptitiously out of my office door. There's usually some enticing little teatime indulgence lying around near the kitchen area. And indeed - there was a plate of brownies on a table outside one of the meeting rooms.

Casually, I strolled towards, and past, the brownies, tryng to scope out the area. Were they meant for someone in particular? Would someone reprimand me if they caught me sneaking a brownie off the plate? It wouldn't do at all to have the HR bod caught filching food.

A quick walk (feigned stroll) with an air of affected nonchalance to and fro in the general vicinity of the brownie plate revealed that (a) the brownies were for the group having a meeting in the room; and (b) the fact that they were not paying attention to the brownies meant in my mind that it was a free for all. So, very slowly, very casually (no one could have guessed my intentions, honestly), I approached the brownie table. Glanced at the people in the meeting room, all intently staring at their screens. Glanced left and right down the corridor. Felt my hand drawn, as though by an external force beyond my control, towards the plate.

And the meetingroom door opened and the party burst forth. "Let's take a break for a brownie snack!" I heard one of them say in general congenial chatter. Stupid nonce.

I quickly withdrew my hand, stood up to my full height, and headed off back to my office, as though that's where I'd been going anyway. I gave an over-exaggerated glance at my watch and muttered about how late I was, for the benefit of anyone who might have been listening.

And then got back to my room and realised I was still craving something sweet. Supremely irritated by the somewhat pathetic timing which had rendered me brownie-less, I decided a quick jaunt to Starbucks to fulfill my craving was in tall order. Schlepped over to the one on Greenwich, stood patiently in the queue, finally reached the front of the line, got an expectantly questionning look from the young lady in the cash register, and suddenly realised I wasn't craving it anymore.

"Uh, nothing." I told her, stepped out of the line, did my little routine about looking at the watch and muttering how late I was, and headed back to the office. Just how I'd intended for the day to go. One hour later, and still on square one.