The End of the World As We Know It

I now "live" on the 11th floor.  I swore I would never work here.  Ever.  Like, I would rather DIE than work here. 

But here I am.  And so far I like it.

Yesterday I attended a meeting with the managers I worked with in a different division.  One of them--who I had met and not particularly liked before he left for his mission--sat near me during our lunch.  We spoke about some of his mission experiences. 

He also lives on the 11th floor.  As he walked past my desk this morning, he waved at me.

He. waved. at. me.

Please do not misunderstand.  I do not care.

But I think that perhaps the world is ending.  I can only handle so much weirdness before I begin to question...