Saturday, June 18, 2005

The secret lives of drawers

"Garbage in the universe remains constant". I think thats one of the laws of junkodynamics. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyways in the morning as we came into office we saw an easel with eight color pictures. I went up the usual fleet of stairs, unconsciously tapping my fingers on the wooden railing. My footing programmed from monotony to touch the ground at exactly the right place. I opened my mailbox and out popped a mail from the CEO which threw some light on the existence of the pictures. The mail read, "The pictures are a Saturday morning snapshot of a finite set of desk drawers at Impulsesoft. Since these pictures were taken early in the morning possibly it might explain why all the drawers don't look their best. In order to keep the competition simple, you have to match four or more drawers with their owners. The drawers you will notice are numbered creatively as #1 through #8. The names of the owners (some of them) are included below."

I reach the bottom of the mail. Yup my name is there. I then proceed to take a look at my drawer. Well it was not so early in the morning and my drawer still didn't look its best. Entangled wires everywhere which were used to develop the wireless products that we build. What else... well some naked PCB boards, debug cables, bubble rap, static covers, tiny screw drivers, a phone, some iPods. Everything kept in a very disorderly fashion. Well the stuff wasn't garbage as mentioned above but thats what I was treating it like. What a sight! I then went down to look at the other pictures. Well mine wasn't that bad :-)

After going to the cafeteria I went up to look at the mail again. "Study these pictures well for they will be used in competition #2 as well. We will announce the winner before we go for volleyball this evening." A few days have passed since then. No winner was officially announced but then again no prizes for guessing who won.

Now when I come into office, I go up the usual fleet of stairs, unconsciously tapping my fingers on the wooden railing. My footing programmed from monotony to touch the ground at exactly the right place. But before I open my mail box I now think of the not so secret life of my drawer.

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