I’m feeling a little guilty for considering posting photos in my cubicle that I took at a rodeo for no other reason than that my boss is currently on a rampage about animal cruelty at rodeos and I want to see her turn red.
The problem with cleaning up your desk: you no longer look like you’re swamped with work.
You know that moment in the day when you’re so excruciatingly bored out of your mind that you almost can’t stand to sit in your chair and stare at your computer for one more minute? And you think, “If only someone would send me an email, JUST ONE EMAIL, I would be happy,” because you think that just MAYBE it will occupy a little time? Because you’ll spend a minute or two reading, and maybe it will generate some work, and maybe that work will take five minutes, and then you’ll be six or seven minutes closer to the end of the day, and those six or seven minutes would feel like an ETERNITY if not for that email which you desperately hope would appear in your inbox? And then you look up and see that there IS an email in your inbox (!), and you become so obnoxiously excited that you do a little happy dance in your chair and almost want to call your coworker down the hall and yell, “I HAVE AN EMAIL!!”? And then you realize that the email is just junk, not even from a real person, and definitely not providing any work?
If there is a feeling of disappointment deeper than this, I have yet to experience it.
Boss: “Hey, Kim…I have a present for you.” (Hands me an invoice to pay)
Me: “I think you’re confused about the definition of present.”
“I’m going 70 miles an hour and I’m passing a golf cart. That makes me nervous…but not as nervous as I would be if they were passing me.”
If you live in the Austin area and have found that you have a shortage of water, it’s because I drank it all.
Sorry.
“Another box arrived just now.”
“Is it one of ours?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t say who it’s for. It just says it from the Fulfillment Center.”
“The Fulfillment Center?”
“Yeah.”
“Should I come look at it?”
“Yeah, we can open it together.”
“Open it together and share the guilt?”
“Yes.”
“OK…but if I don’t feel fulfilled when we open it, we’re sending it back.”
(Also, when I excitedly ask if it’s a puppy, don’t immediately exclaim that it’s a kitten, you cat loving cat person.)
I’m sitting in my office eating my lunch, totally engrossed in reading a blog, when I get the feeling that someone is looking at me. I look up to find ACW making faces at me through the crack in my mostly closed office door.
If there is anything creepier than that moment, I don’t want to know what it is.
I woke up from a dead sleep last night at 12:50am. But I had no concept of what it meant for it to be 12:50am. I became extremely confused and thought to myself, “What’s it like when it’s 12:50am? Is it supposed to be this dark? Is it really cloudy outside and that’s why it’s so dark?” And then I was convinced that I was incredibly late to work, that I needed to call in, and that my boss would be pissed at me for not being at work at 8:00am to help her do something. But I kept thinking that I must have something wrong, none of this seemed right somehow. So I sat there staring at my alarm clock for a good two minutes, thinking REALLY hard, and finally realized that 12:50am is actually quite a long time before 8:00am and that I wasn’t late for work; that 12:50am is, in fact, quite a long time before 6:30am when I would need to get up and that I hadn’t overslept; that I would be able to sleep a whole five and a half hours more before I needed to worry about any of this.
And when I woke up at 6:30am and remembered all this, I realized how good it is that I get to work an hour and a half after I get out of bed every day, because apparently I have the IQ of a pine cone when I first wake up.
You know what? I don’t think it’s cruel when I eat a slaughtered, ground up, and flame broiled cow. I’m doing that cow a favor.
It was bored.
