I don’t know what my deal is with maintenance men.

I was sitting at my desk just after lunch, willing the words to appear on the screen and, ok, probably checking my gmail over and over again. In comes one of our floor’s maintenance guys.

In lilting English, he tells me how much he likes coming in each night and seeing my buddha statue. He likes it so much, in fact, that he has brought it an offering.

He brought an offering to my decorative, “focus on zen and not on homicide, magda” buddha statue.

It is an origami basket with a pinecone in it.

I don’t at all know what to make of this. I wonder, though, if he noticed that just above the buddha’s left shoulder is an icon of the Holy Virgin. It’s tough to tell, but she may be frowning.