Tuesday, March 17, 2009

The Time I Snapped (March 9, 2004)

So I was at work today, and for some reason everyone began to irk me. Whatever anyone said sounded idiotic to me. Was it just me? I was just sooo irritable. Maybe they've always performed their work at a sub-par quality, and I hadn't noticed. Some people just want to cruise through life without giving it their best, whether it's sports or their jobs. Am I supposed to just let them get away with it, when their performance directly affects mine?

The Toyota Echo
I get my rental car today since my car is in the shop, and they unveil "the echo* (echo echo echo)." Never have I been more scared for my life on the freeway, than I have been today. So I drive my egg on wheels on what could just be described as the windiest day of the year! Every gust of wind shook the car uncontrollably, making me hold on to the steering wheel for dear life. Never in my many years of owning a car or license, have I ever placed my hand in the 10 o'clock and 3 o'clock position on the steering wheel, but I did today, tightly, while murmuring a somewhat hybrid version of "Hail Mary" and "The Act of Contrition." Eventually, I see my parking lot, and what a welcome site it was! The egg survived! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ....

9:30 am


Our Company Photographer
He walks in my office..."Dude, I got a big meeting tomorrow. Do you have any samples of my work so I can show them?" Pretty simple question right? I'm sure he's asked me similar questions before. Why should today be any different? I don't know but it was. I blame male PMS! Hey women use it, why shouldn't I? So instead of letting a somewhat harmless, though ignorant question go by, I had to get on my sanctimonious soapbox..."Um...no. Why the hell would I have samples of your work? Who's responsibility is it to keep track YOUR work?" "It's your portfolio! Is your work so important that it merits stopping what I was doing?" "Ok, why don't you just print some more from the disk you are holding in your hands?" ...The heavens open up as 12 glorious angels fly down singing in unison Alleluia... It's interactions like these that make me seem like a rocket scientist in this office. Though 15 minutes after the conversation, I only had one word reverberating in my head.....duh!!!!!

That was 10:30 am.


The Old Biddies in the Lunchroom
Upon reaching the threshold of hunger, a game I like to play everyday where I wait until I am so hungry that I'm in the verge of eating my mouse pad, I trek over to the kitchen, specifically the microwave. I set the timer to 3 minutes...a relatively short amount of time...a lifetime in the lunchroom. The typical lunch bunch consisted of several middle-aged ladies, somewhat overweight yet have doctorate knowledge of dieting, diet supplements and the Jenny Craig points system. They spend the rest of their lunchtime discussing how many points each of their Lean Cuisines are worth, and why they shouldn't eat the cookies sitting right in front of them, left by one of our reps. After they finish eating, they then rush back to their computers to further research on the internet the latest fad in dieting. Newsflash! None of you have ever lost a friggin pound! Talking about dieting does not supplement actual weight loss. Here's a fad: Stop watching Survivor and get off your ass once in a while!!! It doesn't matter how little you eat, you still need to burn off the appetizer you call entrees with actual movement...move your asses!!!!

As a treat, I open up the tupperware I just finished microwaving and pull out a brownish crunchy sliver of meat, and proceed to chew...oh my goodness!!! It's sooo good! Sooo salty!...what is it? Wha what?! Could it be? It's spam!!!!! And it's worth 50 billions points per serving, and I love it!!!!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!...I have officially lost it....

12:00 pm


The Printer up Front
An individual in the office apparently has sent multiple print jobs to the printer, yet no prints come out. Apparently, printing these 3 pages of Mapquest were so important that it necessitated the interruption of my lunch hour!!! So I make hand gestures of shooting myself in the head, I walk over to the printer to help the young woman.

1st point:
I am not the computer tech person of the company

2nd point:
I was in the middle of enjoying my fried rice

Well, I guess I am the next logical step, because apparently I am a genius. So I walk over to the computer and send a test page to the printer...hmmm...odd...nothing is printing on printer 1. So being the genius I am, I walk over to printer 2 and low and behold....six copies of Mapquest sitting on the tray. Have you ever sighed in a way where it wasn't a continuous sigh, but resembled the rythmic pattern of a machine gun? The machine gun sigh or the earthquake sigh...*siiiiiiiiiiiigh*.....if I wasn't having such a great hair day, I would've ripped handful of hairs from the side of my head...

12:45 pm


On deadline
Staring at the pile of paper next to me, which seems like an eternity to finish, I pop open a can of coca-cola to send me once again into that state of euphoria I like to call "the zone." This is what I was hired to do. It's crunch time and I love it! I zoom through each project as if everyone else around me is moving in slow motion. I slowly finish each task with the efficiency and grace of a skilled artisan. I was indeed in the "zone." Everyone in the office knew that when I crack open that can, "he is not to be disturbed." As I zoom past one task after the other...a timid voice emerges from the depths of nothingness and eventually makes itself heard....*as the record skips in my head* I hear, can you print this for me? And e-mail this file? Oh...it's the useless, pasty-skinned sack of potatoes that I allow to be my boss. My mere existence makes her existence possible.

Ok, I'm in the zone, a stack of work stares me in the eyes and I have 2 hours to perform a task that would usually take a day. You, on the other hand, are doing nothing! Surfing on the internet, looking for accessories for your pet parrot. Here's how you print: File ---> print. Here's how you e-mail: File ---> send. Please give me more titanically menial tasks while on deadline, because heaven forbid you get outbid on ebay by a 13-year old kid. Please add insult to injury by allowing the company to pay your sorry-ass twice what they offer me. Oh please!!!!!

4:30 pm


I'm seeing red.....I'm seeing red!!!...Why am I seeing red?!??! Can someone check if blood is coming out of my ears?

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