My bus pass keeps stabbing my finger. Right under the nail in that fleshy part. It hurts!
Someone has hung a sock monkey, over my desk, from a paperclip and a push pin. I'm not even going to take him down. 1. Because sock monkeys are kind of awesome and 2. because he's representative of what its like to work here. So if they were trying to make me laugh, they just made me nod my head in recognition of that feeling.
Amy is a cow (no I guess nothing has changed, I just felt like it should be reiterated). Tomorrow is Canada Day (holla!) so we get the day off. But what a kick in the box is it that we have to come back for Friday? Like what is up with that? Well the other team, you know the one with a manager that respects them and recognizes that when employees feel valued they work harder? Well they have the option to work tomorrow, without stat pay and then get the Friday off. You end up with a long weekend, instead of a taste of weekend that gets yanked back just as you are starting to relax into it.
I don't get this option because its a managerial call to make and Amy has her head so far up her own a$$ that she doesn't realize that some people might want to get Friday off instead so that they can drink during fireworks, not be hungover at work AND watch the Netherlands take on Brazil.
Today, Amy gets the stink eye. All day long. Passive Aggressive to the max!
Overshare Alert! Yesterday Nathan told me the following: "My dad got a vasectomy because he thought 2 kids was plenty." While I respect Nathan's dad's decision, I never ever needed to know about it. That's great that his dad is able to enjoy some private time with Nathan's mom and not have to worry about any more little Nathans running around, but for the love of God, keep it to yourself. Did Nathan forget the agony he felt when his dad had this discussion with him? Why pass that along to your lovely, unsuspecting co-worker?
You guys, I fear that I have become a full on cubicle imbecile. Yesterday I had trouble stringing together words to form coherent thoughts and it didn't even wear off on the bus ride home (with my stabby bus pass). It lingered into the evening when The Boyfriend and I played some more Crazy 8s (the student has become the master). I won a game when he was holding three 8s! And I asked him about it but instead of calling them 8s I called them aces. Needless to say The Boyfriend was confused. Later I called pillows, towels. I might also have told him that I didn't want to play Scrabble with him because he always wins (I'm not a very good loser), not because he's smart but because he knows where to place the letters.
So either the cubicle is breaking down my ability to interact with other, non-a$$hole people, or I have a brain tumour?
Maybe I shouldn't put that last part out into the Universe...
There was a lot of discussion in the comments yesterday about the acceptability of crying on the bus. There's a lot of crazy that takes public transit so I guess in the grand scheme of things a little sniffle or maniacal laughter (yes its happened to me Breenuh - I read Jen Lancaster on the bus all the time, you can't help but look crazy when you read that in a public place. The woman is hilarious) doesn't really stand out. I just feel doubly self conscious and try so hard to control it on the bus, as opposed to reading it at home when I would just sob, letting it all out (as long as The Boyfriend wasn't around to mock me).
And you all MUST read Jane Eyre!!! No matter how long your To Read list is! Its amazing!
I'm sorry for the random collection of "thoughts" (seems a strong word for this post), its the best I could do today. I fell asleep on the bus. I am tired. I'm amazed I made it to work honestly. I could have just stayed on the bus and rode in a loop all day long.