Spend the best part of fifteen minutes gnashing my teeth wondering where the hell my eraser is. I do a lot of work in pencil in this job of mine, and the eraser is a must.
Mutter, progressively louder and faster, about where the hell eraser is, and which of your colleagues may have eaten it.
Look high, look low. Check the bin, my drawers, between sheets of paper. Nothing doing. Decide I was wasting too much time looking for it, and a neat strike-through would do. Go to pick up my pencil, which is kept on that handy groove bit at the top of my keyboard.
Squeal. The eraser is sitting on my keyboard. Bare in mind that I had, at least once on this search, lifted the keyboard to see if it hadn’t wedged itself under there. It's a large eraser. It has DERWENT written on it in large white letters on it's grey cover.
Repeat, at least once a week, with a pencil, or bright pink pen, or, I don’t know, a large calculator.
Mission Accomplished, I think.
N.B Relatedly, at least twice a day I engage on a pencil-search, ending only at the moment I realise it's where it always is - tucked behind my ear.
Bleeding arse and a snot bubble
27 minutes ago