Wednesday, October 14, 2009

On The Bright Side...

I have been frowning too much. I can't imagine how I got into this habit, I have so much fun day to day at work that I am smiling all the time!

Regardless of how it happened (I know how it happened. Its because I work in a soul destroying cubicle for 35 hours a week) I feel like my face is starting to sag into a permanent frown. And before too long I will be one of those middle aged women who look prematurely old because they have such sour expressions on their faces. And beyond that I will turn into a crusty, grumpy, witch of an old hag who no one can believe ever had a reason to smile.

On the bright side, when I become that crusty old b***h I can destroy other people's souls with my mean spirited comments. Man, I can't wait for grandkids.

In an effort to battle my sagging face, I have been trying to find positives in all the negatives around me. Let me tell you that this is no easy feat. People and situations around this place make me nuts and much more likely to go postal with mail openers than to look on the bright side. Anna is good at looking at the bright side, but I actually think that she is just playing devil's advocate.

For example when I noted yesterday that I seemed to be hearing way too much John for my liking Anna one upped me by telling me that she actually had to go and talk to him. I responded by telling her that I had to walk passed him in the hallway and she remarked that at least I didn't have any more meetings with him where I would have to sit in a room with him and look at him. I asked her why she would say that?! And she responded with "sorry, I like to look on the bright side of things". I'm wondering where the bright side is when John comes back and says "Oh hey, we haven't had a meeting in a while, I'll book one". I'll get you Anna, I will get you.

We shall start this experiment with Maurice. My cubicle buddy. He's a few cents short of a dollar if you ask me. Something is not right. He doesn't even know who Karl Lagerfeld is and quite frankly, that is not OK. I mean, we work above Chanel and you don't know who he is. Sorry, I left out the best part. He has a cartoon of Karl Lagerfeld as his screen saver. Its the wallpaper on his cell phone too. But he doesn't know who he is. I better stop, my face is doing all sorts of different rage contortions. Maurice eats his breakfast at his desk. But he doesn't eat normal toast, bagels, pastries or cereal for breakfast. Some days it perogies, pasta, soup. Today it was some kind of asian dumpling that smelled like old farts and garbage. I honestly could not breathe. I was suffocating on old farts and garbage. Not a nice way to go. He is also unable to pick up his feet when he walks so he shuffles all over the place. But (and this part is said through clenched teeth because talking about his breakfast is angering me again) on the bright side he is wearing his lime green shirt. And he also asked about the Backstreet Boys' new album and this provided me with an opportunity to mock him, which I love to do. I should also mention that I actually love BSB but he doesn't need to know that.

This morning I got to work at 8.12, well ahead of my 8.30 start time. If I got this time back all would be well. I could leave here at 4.12 and get home that much sooner. But that time is not given back to me. The original purpose of this department was to be a support system for the people that deal directly with clients, we're a kind of back office. They always told us that we were unable to work adjusted schedules because we were supposed to work the same hours as the people out in the "field". Now we have Amy and Veronica working whatever hours they want to, working saturdays, leaving early, banking Overtime and the rest of us are left to figure out when they will be here and what it means for us. Here is what it means for us: nothing. We don't get the option of working to bank overtime, we don't get the option to work flex hours to make room in our personal lives for things like doctors appointments, finances or general wellbeing. On the bright side? ...um...I won't feel bad about leaving 5 minutes early. Although, I do that every day, so maybe its not a bright side. I definitely never feel bad about it...I'm going to have to work on this one some more...

I don't know what just happened but Veronica asked Maurice how to do something. And he had an answer. Guess the Maple Leafs are taking the Cup this year...
But seriously. Maurice had an answer to something Veronica didn't even pretend to know. Oh thank God--he was wrong. Its OK folks, the universe is as it should be and the Leafs will continue to suck. That was close though.

Edna is dressed better than me today. Although this isn't hard to do these days (I just can't be bothered to care) the fact that its Edna that has beaten me is kind of depressing. She is wearing a smart black suit! She has a blazer on (I love blazers but they are impossible to find for those of us that have been blessed with chest. The one that I did find that was perfection, was stolen from me. At work) and her nails are done and she looks so nice. And I look like s**t. Like I said, in itself not surprising. It just brings home how far I have fallen that Edna looks better than me. This is the girl that matched stripes and dots, that one time wore what looked like an evening dress with a t-shirt. I don't understand how this happened. On the bright side, Edna is, in all likelihood, a Lifer. I am not. This evens things out. Slightly.

Turd Fergason was just in my space. I mean, technically he was talking to Maurice, but he was still in my space and I still had to listen to his voice. In fact, now he has moved on to Veronica, but I can still hear his voice. And his voice grates on my nerves. He's so arrogant and patronizing and he's an a**. On the bright side, he did provide me with this gem:
Turd: Hey Maurice, can you do me a favour, and going forward can you record on a pad of paper when you run into this issue (I'm being deliberately vague but you're not missing anything interesting)
Maurice: um...ok...yeah. You just want me to write it down?
Turd: yeah, whenever you run into that, just write it down with the client number so that we can keep track of how many there are.
Maurice: But its so random, there's no pattern. How will we keep track?
Turd: Because you will be writing them down.

Seriously- I hope that Maurice has a caretaker at home.

Veronica is back. And Amy gains strength from her presnce. But on the bright side Veronica just gloated about how her mom made her her lunch to make up for the fact that she didn't make her lunch at all last week. Her mommy made her lunch. The best part is that for lunch today, Veronica has macaroni and cheese and corned beef. Together. Ew.

I think all in all my experiment worked. I have enjoyed poking fun at my co-workers, even if it was all in my head. I guess the next step would be to bring this fun to my face so that it starts to snap out of its sag. I think that this must be a defense mechanism. If I look like a b***h, people will assume that I am one and not talk to me. And then I don't have to deal with nearly as much crap.

ooooo on the bright side, The City is on tonight!

Oh but wait...I just bit my lip and its bleeding. That cancels out The City excitement...

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