Janet is Very Efficient, Isn't She?

Having a stare at a pan of jello is just like having a stare at a bobble head or one of those suction cups with a trinket on the end, meant to cling to windows. None of these things serve a purpose. When things that do not serve a purpose ordinarily entertain me, the jello pan became more of an annoyance yesterday. While I should have been adding extra iceberg, a tomato, and 2 packages of saltines to a plate of standard salad for Mrs C (a total poser, elder version), I stood staring at the large pan of jello, or otherwise spacing. At least it was red jello. Red jello is better to look at than, say, green or orange jello. Please don't get me wrong. Orange is alright as a color. But orange jello is like punishment. Anything orange flavored is always secondary or not included on the list at all. It's never anyone's favorite. Inform me of errors in judgement. (Let me include the fact that pumpkin-flavored is something altogether different. If everything orange colored was pumpkin flavored, we would hardly be having this conversation. If this is even a conversation. What am I saying?)
Moving on, my analytical mind began to think about the nutrients we need to survive. Staring at that jello, broken and slightly bubbly at the edge, I realized that there is virtually no good thing to come out of jello. There is no single atom in jello that would ever assist in the nourishment of our bodies. It doesn't even taste good. It just feels like you're eating slugs with somewhat fruity flavor. Sort of like eating those tiny rice noodles that come served at the bottom of the plate when you get the asian-food-urge, upon which your real meal sits. They don't taste like much, they're just there to offer some varying colors or something equally minor. 
I've come to the conclusion that the only thing jello can possibly offer us is a fun thing to throw.  

Meanwhile:
Mrs. I: "Did you hear what I said?"
Me: "No I didn't.." 
Mrs I: "I'll say it again, then. I said, 'Janet is very efficient, isn't she?' And the rest of the table agreed!"

This flattered me. I thanked her liberally. That wasn't meant to be a pun, since she is liberal. TEE HEE HEE..... wha...?
I think they grow astounded sometimes at the swift and dodgy way with which I avoid the chairs, tables, or other servers. They take it as me rushing. Well, it IS me rushing, but it's also the small detail of their being old and unhurried, whereas for me to be unhurried is practically torture most of the time. When I am not efficient I feel useless or hopeless. When I feel useless or hopeless, I feel like I need to throw things. Maybe jello.