I received a very nice compliment this morning. The woman on the other side of the wall told me that I remind of her of House . You know? House MD? Hugh Laurie. Of course you know. Anyway, it was nice to start the day with a compliment. Because Hugh Laurie is like the gold standard of sarcasm.
The rest of the morning has been a...challenge. And if you have been reading for a while, you know that I dislike that word. And if you are new, I dislike it because it was my former King-of-the-D-bags-manager's favourite word. But I can't think of anything else in my heightened state of disgust.
Before I had had any caffeine (OK that's not a totally fair start--I almost never drink coffee and occasionally have tea in the morning)...Before I had any time to wrap my head around another day at the office, John popped by. All of this popping by really cramps my Internet time. I have to be on high alert all the time. Apparently, without my being completely aware of it, we are now working on some kind of project. Together. We have the same goal. In a way. But while he was the "brains" (I use the term loosely) behind the operation, I'm the one that gets to do all the work. I loves me some Cubicle today.
Do you know what John has managed to do? He has somehow managed to take all the words out of my job. Everything that I was doing he has now turned into a sequence of numbered codes. The better for him to run his reports I guess. But for someone who values the presence of letters, words and sentences in her daily life, this is nothing short of catastrophic. I mean, I quit math after Grade 11 for a reason. I'm rubbish with numbers. And now my whole job, which really had no meaning to begin with, has been reduced to a series of numbers.
So he came by and explained how it was all going to work. And then he got Turd Furgason to come by and explain the rest. Turns out that besides being a tool, Turd also smells. Halitosis. I feel like in the 21st century we are all kind of aware of this and, as a social courtesy, know that there are things that you can do to reduce it. Some of the things that come to mind? Brushing your tongue. Oh and mints or gum maybe? Just off the top of my head, I mean I'm not doctor or anything...There I am listening to Turd drone on and on and on and all I can think about is avoiding his breathing in my face. But he's literally sitting over me, in perfect position to exhale in my face. Dis.Gusting.
He also has no idea what it is that I actually do here. And as much as I love being spoken to like I'm a moron...there is only so much of him I can take. I did my best to look like everything made perfect sense, took the literature (words are words right? no. so wrong. there is nothing awesome about this "literature" at all) and hope I'll be able to figure it out when he leaves. I'm sure I will. Turd is not that smart. It can't be that hard.
I sure hope that I get lots of follow up emails from him.
Now, a story that should prove to you that I am in fact a total a-hole. I'm sure you will disagree Mom (maybe you won't), but some days, I am a total a-hole. I'm strangely OK with that. So there was this new girl that started last week. The really good looking one? She started last week and then was away Monday and Tuesday this week. She comes in today, very nicely dressed with these HUGE movie star sunglasses. Now, the last time I checked it was November and the sun definitely isn't shining. And if it was, it probably wouldn't be shining inside. So I'm totally ready to mock her (not to her face) a little and wonder what the hell is going on. I might have mentioned it to Anna. She agreed, but more so that it was strange. She didn't go full a-hole.
Turns out she was away because she got laser eye surgery.
The glasses are mandatory.
Whoops.
I can't be on all the time you know?
Consolations? My nails look great (OPI's Merry Midnight) and I think there might be Starbucks in my future (I love that I say might like its not my decision to make). Those of you that are groaning at this choice, sighing about how I should patronize a Mom and Pop shop should know that no one makes a grande vanilla earl grey tea misto quite like Starbucks does. It must be the crack they add. Also, I found a new blog that makes me laugh like no other, and although I have never done this, I think you will find My Masonic Apron hilarious too. Unless you are easily offended. And then...what are you doing here?
Yay!
ReplyDeleteWelcome to my ever-expanding harem of female, Canadian readers. I don't know what it is-- perhaps the proximity to the Arctic that freezes the brain stem and makes my blog seem like enjoyable reading material.
In my case I think the brain stem would suffer more from flooding. It probably has more to do with the fact that the rain and darkness coupled with the idiocy that I face every day puts me in the perfect mindset to enjoy your posts.
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