irritation, with birds

There is an unbelievably petty war going on at work right now over scented candles, and I'm on the losing side. The place smells like the evil offspring of a French whorehouse and a Dow chemical plant, but I guess some people like it.

Embittered and exhausted by the noxious scents and attitudes, I left over lunch and ambled around Jamaica Pond for some fresh air and new perspective. I was rewarded with the treat of getting to see a big, gorgeous hawk hanging out over the pond, periodically alighting in a tree or swooping down to scare the bejesus out of the local duck population.

I was feeling much better until I came back to find that the General of the Scented Candle Campaign had set up an honest-to-god yard sale in my office. (Every three weeks or so, people bring in old clothes, shoes, etc. for a workplace swap - a nice idea, but I'd prefer to be asked before it gets installed in my hard-won space.)

Grrrrr.