These are action-packed times here in the nation’s capital. There’s enough going on here to knock the Kardashians down ten slots in the Google News rankings, and not much of it good. It’s hard to find happy, life-affirming news these days.
And no PandaCam to comfort us.
Truth be told, I hadn’t really gotten around to watching PandaCam, except over the shoulder of one of the young women over in the open work-space who is obsessed with the little guy/gal. Her obsession was enough to keep me amused from a distance. I’m still not over losing Butterstick. I didn’t want to get attached to this one.
But, in the immortal words of Joni Mitchell, you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone, and so as soon as the news broke that PandaCam would go dark, I joined the mass anguish of those who’d never watched PandaCam but were aghast at the evil empire’s cruelty and commenced mourning PandaCam’s loss.
About the only good news I could come up with this week is that I’ve earned some Hunger Games cred among my new colleagues after an impressive climb up several stories of stairs in high heels, beating everyone to the top without breaking a sweat. I’m sure it’s that and not the fact that as the oldest person on the team I’d be most expendable.
Ok, then. Something new to worry about.
I could share that there’s a new Dunkin’ Donuts across the street and I had my first pumpkin latte of the season, but apparently even pumpkin is a divisive topic anymore. I’m already scarred from accidentally coming out as pro-Dunkin’ Donuts. There’s a battle I don’t care to engage in again.
What happy, uplifting news could I share? What common ground could I find in these trying times, when no one agrees on anything?
I held firm to my faith that if I waited long enough the universe would deliver a distraction to distract me from the distraction of not being distracted by PandaCam, which never really distracted me until I knew it wasn’t going to be there to distract me, which, quite frankly, I’ve found distracting.
And then . . . the news came. And it is big:
The Sinus Headache painting is among several dozen up for online auction. Not only that, but as of yesterday afternoon, I am the highest (albeit the only) bidder.
Yes, I dislike the painting.
Yes, it haunted me daily, hanging there at the end of the hallway, like some vision from The Shining, with no way around it if I wanted to use the restroom.
Yes, I’m bidding on it.
This is what being PandaCam-less has brought me to. Throughout the day yesterday, instead of not checking on the PandaCam blackout, (“Is it still out? Yes. How ’bout now? Yes.. . .”), I checked in on the auction site.
Still no other bidders.
The auction ends in a couple of weeks, so at least I have an alternative distraction while I wait out the Shutdown at the Not OK Corral and the return of panda cuteness.
I didn’t realize how much I’d come to love to hate that painting until the day they announced they were coming to remove the artwork. I kept taking trips to the restroom to see if it was gone yet.
Don’t it always seem to go . . .
I’ve been wandering around our new place, hoping to see it displayed somewhere so I can hate it again. And now, here it is, one bid away from being mine . . .all mine.
What am I going to do with it should everyone else in the auction continue to display the good sense and good taste to avoid bidding on it?
What am I going to do if someone else has a hankering for an artistic rendering of a sinus headache and engages in a bidding war?
All I know is, either way I win, and that seems to be all that matters.