Day X: Melted

Here I thought Hump Day was supposed be the harbinger of all things good. You know: the end of the week is nigh? But, alas...

Oh, Josh, says Wednesday, you foolish little worm. Don't you know that 'Wednesday' is actually (insert foreign language here) for 'you will never leave your office on this most crawling-by of days?'

Ah, yes, thanks for the remind. How do I forget this from week to week?

I've been in a perpetually foul mood for the last three days and can't quite get to the root of whatever is nagging at my emotion center. I hate to be that person--you know, the whiny ass hat on Facebook and Twitter that ALWAYS has something to say about how terrible the Minnesota winter is even though every single other person in the state is feeling the same exact way but somehow they're entitled to expressing their distaste for snow and cold and general misery in way that will allow the terrible environmental conditions to finally make sense for the rest of us--but:

it's, like, really gross out.

And I have had it: #Officially.

Today, I unknowingly put the icing on my own cake of tears and disgruntledness.

It started with the (all too common) coffee run at 10:30.

What a great idea, I thought. Coffee is sure to pick me up! So I scrambled over to the Caribou on Nicollet for an americano pick-me-up.

1) DO NOT EVER EXPECT A WALK THROUGH THE SKYWAY TO CHEER YOU UP. 

2) DO NOT EVER EXPECT A WALK THROUGH THE SKYWAY TO CHEER YOU UP. 

I would repeat points 1 and 2 one thousand times over if only to help any of you reading this to understand that you should never ever expect a walk through the skyway to cheer you up. Because when you are a 24-year-old curmudgeon, everyone is the worst.

Anywhoozle! I get back to the office and grab a piece of the chocolate peppermint bark sitting on the sharing counter.

How delicious, I thought. What a great little treat!

Cut to: me responding to millions of emails and stopping dead in my tracks when I realize I've blacked out for 20 minutes and something terrible has happened.

Curse you, emails!

Placing the chocolate peppermint treat atop my americano was not a wise move. Did you know that when solids get hot enough, they melt? SCIENCE!

Rather than fix the issue at hand by getting rid of the chocolate-covered lid, I took glamour shots of my epic fail. And the above disaster slowly morphed its way into this:

At this point, I was relatively sure that it was going to come to life. First it would eat my lid, then the cup, then my desk and computer, and then turn to me, give thanks for bringing it into the world, worship me as a god, and then do my bidding as my eternal chocolatey, minty familiar. And while that didn't sound half bad--who wouldn't want to control a giant chocolate monster?--I decided to do what was best for humanity.

I gobbled it down.