The Unspoken Rules of the Office Refrigerator

Who moved my cheese? Seriously, who moved my cheese?

I headed to the refrigerator for my lunch yesterday, opened the door, and scanned the shelves for my Havarti cheese to put on my sandwich. You see, the office refrigerator is a scary place. It's shelves are lined with Slimfast shakes, Danactive yogurt, fiber rich chocolate bars, leftover skyline, diet sodas, and other questionable items.

There are unspoken rules to the office refrigerator. Everyone assigns themselves a spot where they always put their own food. Some people put their initials on their food, but most just throw their viddles in with confidence, knowing everyone will follow the unspoken guidlines.

Sometimes a fed up office worker will open the stuffed fridge and throw a verbal tantrum. "This has been in here for weeks, " she'll say, "Who in their right mind would need three bottles of Ketchup?" And eventually she"ll walk around the office with bags of leftovers in her hand and ask everyone if it is theirs and if they could please throw it away.

Every once in a while you'll have someone break the rules, someone who knows the rules exist and just doesn't care. That person will root through the refrigerator and look for leftovers without initials on them. Then he will eat whatever he can find and claim that it was his and, if someone complains he will say that they should have put their name on it.

There is also another breed of refrigerator goers. This is the person who brings snacks in everyday and puts them in the fridge just in case she wants a snack for later. Everyday a snack is added, but rarely consumed. Its a form of self control, I think. This person is proud when they don't eat the snack because they always need to watch their weight and one day they will go to the fridge and say, "Oh, I guess I have a few snacks in here. I better eat these or bring them home." Then, anyone who is near, rolls their eyes and whispers that maybe that person shouldn't bring in so many snacks or they aren't going to fit through the door and maybe they could save some room in the fridge for everyone else.

Today I walked to the fridge, sifted through half-eaten salads and old chili, and continued to search for my Havarti cheese. It was no where to be found. I assume that the grouchy lady threw it away or the greedy guy took it for his meal, or the snack lady used it as a nice side dish for her snack tray.

I guess I will never know what happened to my cheese, but I don't think the rules have been followed today.