recently, i was lamenting the shape of my current hooded sweatshirt with a coworker. i confessed that i had let it get tattered to the point where it was no longer suitable for “business casual” office wear. i explained to him that i had a strange desire to support a certain usa-based clothing company even tho their hoodies are near $40 and they don’t last a year. i keep buying them, wearing them out, frustrating myself, and breaking down to buy another one.
because, i do enjoy myself a brand new hoodie.
unfortunately, with daily use, these billion-dollar-hoodies don’t hold up. they end up wearing out in the elbow and make me look homeless.
now, every time i see an isthmus
i know the belt or scarf they’re trying to sell me won’t last further than i can throw it.
sorry it’s been so long…
so i was looking for a new pad of paper for work and i thought i could probably tack on a new pen to round out the ensemble. after being sorely disappointed in the decline of office supplies (rsvp pens? really?), i noticed the top of a box of pencils. in order to check the brand (the boyfriend likes ticonderoga), i had to pull the box out.
CRAYONS? wheretf have i been? why didn’t i know that *crayons* is *french* for *pencils*!? i felt embarrassed, and a little annoyed.
after further thought and deconstruction of all that i thought to be true…
i realized “crayola” must mean “wax”.
office-types try to bribe their workers into having a good time when the going gets rough. my employer does the bulk of sales at the end of the year, and we’re asked to help out on the phones or in the warehouse… so they offer free hot beverages through december 31 to keep us awake and motivated. when the email goes out, the expected response is as has been previously
first up is the coffee from our in-house cafeteria; it’s barely passable, hardly drinkable, watered down slew. i won’t even bother with it if i happen to forget my own coffee at home.
that’s right, you heard me.
it gets even more watered down during december because of the increased volume required to sustain those who won’t pay for it the rest of the year.
what’s worse is the vending machine coffee, to which my coworkers and i fondly refer as “ass coffee”.
it’s an even greater insult than the stuff from the cafe because it’s a machine.
the final result of these efforts usually ends up as follows:
as mentioned elsewhere, a co-worker and i try to get up and out of our seats a couple times per day. when the weather does not permit going outside, we end up walking down the hallway past the in-house cafe where there’s usually a slight smell of whatever they’re serving that day.
on most occasions, the scent is pleasant enough… sometimes it’s barely even there, and we pass without incident.
other times, they’re preparing a disgusting amount of bacon and it permeates the air with such tenacity that it sticks to everything and we end up walking back stinking of pork.
i’m generally not a fan of expressing one’s individuality with stickers on a car or political lawn signs. the ones i don’t really mind, tho, are ones that remind us of laws… like, sharing the road with motorcycles, or slowing down cuz kids are playing.
there’s one that *always* tricks my eye and every time, i think, “what makes giraffes so special?!”
when, in fact, it actually reads as follows:
i usually start my day off with about 15 tabs open while i slowly weed through news of the day, techy crap i missed last night, and user experience junk that i can save for when someone finally lets me redesign our checkout.
when i hear my boss’ familiar steps coming from 5 feet away… he sits down in my guest chair and says that he has a favor to ask. he prefaces it with, “cuz you’re really good at typing…”
with slight trepidation, he asked me to transcribe a webinar* that he watched recently.
i gladly obliged… and as it sunk in, it became clear that this was ridiculous. though, i kept it to myself and dutifully typed what i heard, verbatim; practically with one hand.
so, after mixing up my dailies with the transcription service i now apparently run, i hand off the document, all wrapped up in a neat little package of information, and receive a “thanks! this would have taken me all day.”
at lunch, i revealed that this had taken place and we made an interesting observation. it is as follows:
in the past, a fellow co-worker has shared fond stories about his old-timey shaving apparatus, and has a deep affinity for beards and general traits of manliness. we all know this about him and it’s become sort of revering.
we decided that the equivalent experience in his case, would be if my boss declared co-worker’s skill in self-grooming and asked to be shaved by him.
laughter ensued; until reality set back in.
*i positively abhor corporate-speak and the words people make up to convey simple thoughts and ideas that make the person saying it sound ridiculous.