Worthless.

Guinness has spent almost every minute of freedom today sitting in the corner of my room facing the wall. I say almost every minutes, because he did devote a few moments to knocking over my Diet Dr. Pepper and gnawing on my sandwich while I went to the kitchen to get a towel to clean up the spilled Diet Dr. Pepper, but that is pretty much par for the course. Anyway, the point is, he has finally dedicated himself to a normal cat activity. He is guarding my apartment from mice. Unfortunately for him, the mouse he is currently hunting is stuck in the wall. It has been there since at least 4 a.m. this morning when I unhappily awoke to the all-too-familiar desperate scratching sound coming from the corner of my bedroom closest too my face when I sleep. This is the second time this happy event has occurred in the last month.

Here are two things I have learned from the first Mouse-in-the-Wall experience. First, the mouse will never escape. No matter how much the little guy squirms, gnaws, and scratches at the insides of the exterior wall, it will not materialize in my room. Guinness is wasting his time. Not that he has ever partaken in an activity that I wouldn't characterize as a waste-of-time, but I am really concerned about his sanity here. Second, the mouse will die in two or three days. Usually i would be sad for the little whippersnapper, but it is SO ANNOYING. I can no longer sleep in my bedroom and have to spend all my time on the futon in the living room until the sucker dies.

Anyway, personal complaints aside, I must explain why this post is entitled "Worthless". This is the third mouse visit to my apartment. Even Mouse-in-the-Wall, Part I wasn't the first appearance. About five months ago, I returned from my internship in Charlotte to a small household of three mice living under my stove. Because I didn't have much food in the house immediately upon my return, I didn't even notice their presence until a few days into my stay at my apartment. The more disturbing part is that Guinness didn't notice either. His nose is six inches above the level of their happy little home and he didn't notice a thing. He spends at least an hour laying in the kitchen every day and STILL nothing. So of course, when I did realize that bread didn't eat itself I took care of the problem myself.

A few days after identifying the problem, exterminators arrived and placed trays of sticky material under the stove to catch any mouse stragglers, and pushed said trays all the way back towards the kitchen wall in the least accessible areas. And THIS is when my useless ball of black puff decided to involve himself. I entered my kitchen one afternoon after hearing a weird clunking noise to find Guinn hobbling around the stove area stuck to the sticky mouse-trapping device, apparently pleased with his capture...of himself.

What a waste of cat life! He doesn't do a thing when actual mice are loose in my kitchen but he traps himself by aggressively hunting plastic trays. Now, he has devoted his entire day to taking Mouse-in-the-Wall, Part II into his own hands. Worthless.

The World According to...Who Knows

So today in Advanced Auditing we discussed inventory management and the audit procedures undertaken to test the assertions and accounts pertaining to inventory. Of course, most of the examples referred to observing and testing the inventory of "widgets." Samples of purple widgets, a selection of blue widgets, various obsolete yellow widgets. It was all pretty mundane.

After a little while though, maybe because I happened to be staring at that part of projector screen for too long or just because accounting classes take me to such a special place of insanity, I started contemplating the widget and its completely undeserved significance in my life.

Since the dawn of time, or day one of Econ 101(pretty much the same), all I have heard about is this magical little thing called a "widget." They are omnipotent. A widget is a commodity, a luxury item, an inferior good; They are traded in perfectly competitive markets, controlled by monopolies and oligopolies, are price elastic and inelastic. They are produced utilizing economies of scale, traded in every currency, hedged using all types of derivative instruments. Every nation, tribe, village, merchant, and vendor has at one time had a comparative advantage in producing, growing, manufacturing, and selling widgets. Apparently widgets are also stored in warehouses, arranged in their various colors and sizes, and must be audited by CPAs. To someone who didn't understand the strictly anecdotal nature of the classic widget example, it would seem that the little guy was the leading export and import of every country in the world.

I understand story problems and examples must exist for teaching purposes but WHY THE WIDGET?!? Is it too much to ask for textbook authors to replace "widget" with "car" or "apple"? For all we have learned about them, it would seem that a shock in widget prices would decimate the global economy. Unfortunately no one really knows WHAT a widget even IS.

There really is only one way to solve the great mystery of the widget: Google Image Search.

A Widget:



Or maybe this?



How about...




This?




OR...





So...as usual, Google Image searches provide an incredible amount of clarity. Apparently a Widget is either a one-inch white ball, a stop watch, a strange purple man, AFRICA?, or THE SUN?!?!?! Gee thanks, internet world. Good to know that we can all time our widget-throwing skills with a widget while hunting safari widgets on the continent of widget by the ultraviolet light of the great widget. Stellar.