Nailed!

Do you remember charades?

If you are one of my friend Sharon's bachelorette party attendees, you may have played mixed-company charades as recently as 2006. But for those of you who opt for more exciting things while in Las Vegas than playing drunken charades at 5am with strangers, it may have been a while since you last played.

But like riding a bike, charades is something that you don't forget. Slapping out words and syllable counts against your arm is not an act one forgets easily.

And I bet you even have some old standby moves up your sleeve.

Like putting a hat on your head as a "sounds like" clue for "that." You know what I'm talking about. And if don't, yeah, you can use that one next time you're in Vegas.

There are also some trademark moves that symbolize different types of careers. For example:

• Riding a bike, resting a box on your upturned, open palm, and ringing the doorbell. Pizza guy.
• Listening to someone's chest with a stethoscope and performing CPR. Doctor.
• Driving, honking and cursing. Cab Driver.
• And my personal favorite: typing, chewing gum, and filing your nails. Secretary.

I must now admit that if someone were to observe me at work for a few hours, they would most definitely translate my non-verbal cues into one definitive career. Secretary.

And to be fair, I do type for the better part of my day, and while I never chew gum, I am always filing my nails.

When I left my last job, a co-worker of mine asked the gang to go around and answer silly Melissa-themed questions like, "What was your first impression of Melissa?" (another Puerto Rican joined the office) and "What does Melissa do that really drives you crazy?" (nothing).
One friend was asked what I would bring if stranded on a desert island. Her answer was simple. A nail file.

It's not that my nails are Streisand-worthy daggers of buttah. It's more that my nails are easily controlled in the chaotic business world. And my file brings a much needed respite from spewing corporate jargon to potential clients.

I know that the sounds of nails being filed drives some to madness, but I don't really care. I guess I would be more considerate if anyone ever called me out, but there is a lunatic woman in our office always screaming into the phone who goes unchecked, so I doubt I'm causing any trouble.

I guess that constant nail filing could be deemed office inappropriate behavior for someone with a good career. But then again, so could blogging during business hours.

The bottom line is, you gotta do what you gotta do to stay sane throughout the day. If I was a super high-powered exec I would probably have something more business appropriate going on. Like a treadmill in my office. A treadmill made of nail files.