fine whine

For a couple years now I've been wearing black every Monday at work*. I don't always wear the same shirt, as I seem to now own three short-sleeved black polo shirts, another one with long sleeves, and two button down dress shirts (one is silk even). I can't recall if I was doing this back in the days I was wearing t-shirts, but I have a number of black t-shirts as well.

This is the sort of thing I'm supposed to be documenting here, so that I can go back sometime in the future and know, oh yeah, on November 11th of 2002 I decided that henceforth all Mondays I shall don the black shirt and thusly I have e'er since... but alas, I never did. I have no idea when I began doing this, save for the fact that nearest I can recall I had no such routine back up in Chicago nor could I wear black shirts to work at Arthur Treacher's when I worked there.

Anyway, today is certainly an appropriate day to wear black, and not just to mark the passing of the weekend. Today my cubicle mate (and departmental counterpart) is turning in his notice. As in, he isn't going to be sitting next to me after next Friday.

He's merely the latest person to sit by me to leave the company. I'm up to three now, four if you count neighbors over the wall. I'm not sure what to make of that.

* And when I have Monday off I generally wear black on Tuesday, or whatever day I return to my desk.