Let me flop in peace

I was the sole reporter in the newsroom over the holiday weekend.
This means that anything that strikes the community I cover, is my story. This creates lots of potential for big stories to fall in my lap. For example, perhaps a cop will hit a child in his car, maybe a feud between brothers will end with gunfire or cops will raid a poultry farm and find lots of pot and illegal immigrants.
Oh wait, those are the things that happen when I'm off.
When I'm on... this is what happens.

(sound of fax machine)

(sound of crickets)

(sound of old-ass T.V. projecting 12 million hours of Phillies baseball)

(sound of my phone NOT ringing)

Needless to say, but as the funny qualifier goes, I will say it anyway,
I WAS GOING CRAZY!

Super compulsive crazy - pick you cuticles and nose until it's all bleeding crazy, surf your bookmarked Web pages until your brain is microwaved crazy, alphabetize post-it notes crazy.

You get the idea....

However, I did find a little peace in the whole experience.
I was able to eat my floppy yogurt without anyone watching.
You know those yogurts that come in a tube? They are mostly marketed towards children, who don't yet have the perverse mind of adults, and have no idea what sick images a long flacid tube with creamy stuff spurting out the top conjures.
The thing is ...I actually prefer to eat my yogurt this way. It requires no spoon and solves the problem of scraping the last bits out of the bottom of a plastic cup that just bulks up your brown bag, often times causing the seams to tear.
But I am just humiliated when I am eating the damn things.
It all started when Look Left brought some leftovers from his kid's lunches to work.
I don't think he had any funny feelings about the floppy yogurt until I, in my seemingly homophobic insecurities, pointed out how weird it looked when he was eating them.
I'd laugh at him and avoid making eye contact, because they really do make me squirm! But the pay off, the satisfaction of getting my much needed calcium in one swift squeeze of the....oh f*cking forget it! I can't even defend them without perversion.
I bought them because they were on sale at the store, and I guess I was... curious.
I started putting them in my lunches, and Quacks, but I think he refuses to eat them at work. He tells me the yogurt makes his stomach hurt, but I think he too, is afraid of the image of the floppy yogurt.
The compulsion to eat the floppy yogurt in the back room, where people keep their lunches, not eat their lunches, was overwhelming. I never did, but always wanted to.
Instead, I just tell whomever is around at lunch time, not to look at me while I'm eating it.
Speaking of lunch time, my nearest neighbor is not at his desk right now! I must spring at the opportunity to eat the flop without shame.