Archive for February, 2011

Fun in the Workplace!

Birthday flowers! :(

Hi guys.  Do you miss hearing about TSaur?  I bet you do!  I miss telling you all about him, too!  Because it’s been a minute, this is going to be long, so bear with me. Just know I still hate him and he still smells.  Crucial.

Earlier this month my manager forced me to have a meeting with MP to discuss all the things he was doing wrong in hopes of “promoting his development” since he’s not “good with detail” and “takes offense when his mistakes are pointed out to him”. I.e. teach him how to dougie because he’s a mental midget.  However, considering I’m not his manager nor do I care; I took this opportunity to give him this simple advice: Everything you’re doing right now, do the opposite of that and I think you’ll go far. 

Since he is the biggest moron I’ve ever encountered he takes his “professional development program” to kiss the ass of everyone unfortunate enough to be in this department.  As such, he offers to pay for everyone’s “Birthday Club” admission.  (Just typing “Birthday Club” made me cry inside, BTW).  Anywhoos, Birthday Club is a terrible, awful event that takes place each month and I’ve been a birthday club dropout for years. Read more about it here.  Just know that my response to MP was that I’m a birthday club dropout by choice because I prefer to interact with most coworkers never.

A few weeks ago he creepily bought me flowers for my birthday and placed them on my desk with a card saying they were “from the team”.  I refused to acknowledge said flowers and three weeks later they’re still sitting on my desk rotting away.  See picture of said birthday flowers above.

Last Thursday he decided to bring in breakfast “for the team”. I debated calling in sick to avoid the awkward interaction, but decided that free is free so fuck it and why burn a sick day when I’m not hungover?  He went to a Panera about forty miles away (no, really) as opposed to the one right down the street (really) and spent what must have been upwards of fifty bones on various breakfast sweet treats. Halfway through I was about to have a total and complete panic attack and had to excuse myself and eat the rest of my bear claw in the solitude of the copy room. (No, really).

Because the sound of his voice makes me want to throw a million baby clots, I’ve been forced to listen to music at a volume loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage. As such, a fun side effect of this coping mechanism is that MP scares the shit out of me at least twice a day. He’s a sidler and the next thing I know there he is invading my personal space smelling my cube to shit.  Yesterday he wanted to show me his new cell phone.

MP: I have a new cell phone.

Me: ……

MP: It gets the internet.

Me: (turning around) Neat.

This morning he sidled up next to me once again and asked if I wanted to “grab lunch” with him.

MP: Wanna grab lunch today?

Me: No, I’m going to the gym today.

MP: What about another day this week?

Me: I will be at the gym for lunch always.  (Side note: I am not, but that’s beside the point).

MP: How about breakfast then?

Me: (As I eat my breakfast) I do not eat breakfast ever.

MP: Ever?

Me: Yes.

So there you have it. A full and complete rundown of the past month with the worst coworker to ever exist on the planet.  Aren’t you happy you’re not me?  Samesies!

Bring It Back To Basics!

Baby beer!

My manager told me I dress too much like a hobo last week and suggested I, “bring it back to basics” when it comes to my way of dress in the workplace. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I dig it. I dig it a lot.  As a matter of fact I like it so much Imma go ahead and declare 2011 as the Year of Bringing It Back to Basics!

For example: Are you low on cash but still want to go out and get zany?  Bring it back to basics by smuggling in a flask filled with your favorite booze.  Annoyed with too many babies on Facespace?  No problem. Bring it back to basics and start posting pictures of your fake babies out at various bars around town in hopes moms of the internet get the hint. (They won’t, but it’s fun regardless).  Has your check engine light been on for the past two months and your car smells like burning?  No problem! Bring it back to basics and simply ignore the fuck out of that check engine light.  Spend money on car repairs? LOL! No thank you! 

 

You can see that bringing it back to basics is 1-rad and 2-basically means not giving a rip about most things, which works with my general disposition and outlook on life.  Give it a try and see if you find yourself checking your mail monthly and taking out your recycling only when the number of wine bottles lined up on the kitchen floor starts to resemble a small army of awesome!  Your outlook on life will thank you. You’re welcome in advance.

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