Hey, Look, A Gorilla Mermaid Scaling a Building

My office at work has a window. I'm pretty sure this means that I have peaked professionally at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. But, since I work with mostly nineteen-year-olds, I'm basically the wise old elder of the department village anyway, requiring tributes of doughnuts and quality pens before imparting my sage advice.

Anyway, it's very nice to have a window. To those of you who don't have a window, I'm sorry. I believe you are totally worth receiving residual amounts of vitamin D each day, even if your boss doesn't think you are. Also, you're probably not going to like this post very much. I'm sorry about that, too. You should just stop reading now. In fact, you may not like any future posts I write, not because they'll involve me rubbing my Window Privilege in your face but because you'll probably still be able to see the title of this post in the right column of the blog. See? Right over there. And then it will remind you of the rage that you feel at this very moment. Which is probably only exacerbated by the fact that the only source of light in your office right now is alien light emanating from your computer screen.

Okay, back to my awesome window.

Here's the weird thing about windows and offices. Every time I've ever had an office window (twice), for some reason the layout of the office always forces me to face away from it. It's always to my back or over my shoulder. Now I understand why this gives visiting students and helicopter parents a wonderful vista to gaze across  as I crush each Almost-Adult's I-can-do-anything-despite-my-individual-ability-and-effort dreams. But, come on. Dream crushing takes twenty minutes, max. If that dream is still alive after a half hour, you're just not crushing it right. In no time these kids get to leave (crying), exiting the doldrums of this building. They get to rush into the great outdoors, where glorious rays of sun shine down, illuminating their tears as they fall to the sidewalk. Lucky bastards.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck here day after day staring at a khaki-colored wall, while the wonders of the world spin madly on behind me. Now I can't be sure, but I think this is a good guess as to what went on behind me the other day:

Lesson learned: watch your back, people. There may be gorilla mermaids scaling a building right behind you. (Also, old-timey robbers are all about the wall clocks and soda drinks.)