Another X on the wall

Living in a cubicle for eight hours a day has its challenges.  For one, no matter how many Dilberts or family photos you thumbtack to the wall, nothing can mask that Misery Gray color.  Second, it is difficult to mark the passage of time.  Without a window or any insight to the outside world, it becomes nearly impossible to adjust to the changing months.  My daytime world is a consistent partly-cloudy 72 degrees. 

In light of this challenge, one of the universal activities of our close cubicle fraternity is counting the days.  We all need to know we're getting closer to the end.  It doesn't matter that we haven't defined the end yet, it just feels good to know we're getting there.  Much like POWs.  A lot of people mark X's (or, for the tragically perky, smiley faces) on their calendars.

That's quaint.

I, on the other hand, mark the passage of time with urinal pads.  Navy contracts are beautiful in their complexity and their manic attention to detail.  We just don't hire someone to "clean the bathroom". No, no. Our contract with the custodial provider says "You will replace all urinal pads on the first working day of each calendar month."  It is precisely that attention to detail that makes me proud to be an American. 

Today is one of those contractually important days.  I go to the bathroom at around 10:00 this morning and, while in the process of relieving myself, I receive this fragrant burst of lilac aroma.  I look down and sure enough, written on the urinal pad in Sharpie is 9-2-08.  Today is a good day.  I settle back into my hygienic routine and let lilac blossoms remind me that August is over.  That is a good thing.  Toward the end, August was starting to smell a bit like urine.