My camera-phone takes pictures on par with grainy photos of UFOs or the black speck of the Loch Ness Monster, but if you look closely, that is actual weed on the back stairway of our office-building.

The pot smell came back today with a vengeance, and again we tracked it down to the back stairway. We just missed them — the smoke lingered in the air, cigarette butts lay on the floor, and on one step, a spilled bag of weed.

When we came back, our boss told us he’d caught them — five minutes earlier he opened the door to the stairwell and found 3 early-20s types standing around smoking.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“Smoking marijuana,” one guy said. Truer words, my friend. Truer words.

Our boss closed the door and that apparently scared the misguided youths away — scared them enough even to leave behind $12.63 worth of Mary Jane. The ethical question remains: what do you do when you stumble upon some weed in the workplace? (Or “free shit” as one of my coworkers called it?)

Best thing to do, I think, is take it down to the police station and turn it in, as I’m sure they will pursue our truthful pot-smokers with all due diligence.

Lately, our office smells a lot like pot smoke. 3 days in a row, and then after a meeting today it was particularly strong, and my coworker Jill and I tried to sniff our way through the cubicles, like drug hounds, to track down the source.

We got dizzy the closer we got to the stairwell. Looks like somebody thought the office was empty (or empty enough to get high in) and smoked it up on the stairs. Every day this week.

There’s an alternate theory, though. With the reorganizations going on in my company, the four of us left in the Minneapolis office thought corporate might be trying to get rid of us. Earlier this winter, the office heating mysteriously seemed to die. Could they now be trying to smoke us out?

Man, have they ever got the wrong idea!

I find myself working longer and longer hours — and loving it. I now spend whole afternoons standing in front of the vending machines, savoring all my delicious choices. My productivity is about the same as before. What was I writing about again?

Whatever, I’m going to go grab a snack. Peace out!

Post a caption for the above picture.

Here’s an IM exchange between myself and my boss today (who’s a woman):

Me: so the picture is of JOHN and Clinton?
Me: not just clinton
My Boss: correct
Me: go tit
Me: got it
My Boss: HUH?
My Boss:
Me: sorry!
Me: typos gonna cost me my job

A few seconds later I heard a bunch of laughter coming from my coworker’s cube next door, and then this:

My boss: shared that w/ Jill
My boss: could you tell?
Me: I’m catching on

I already put my boss’s name by a sex-line phone number on our Web site, so if I didn’t get fired for that, what’s a little semi-dirty IM-ing?