A couple of months ago I scaled back my hours at the Department of Melancholy so I could (1) concentrate on freelance work and (B) avoid stabbing myself in the face because the people in my office were making me feel JUST REAL FACE STABBY during the entire months of September-October-November-December-and-January. At the time (and by “at the time” I mean “back when I was making plenty of money and had forgotten what it was like to be broke and pathetic”), cutting back to a part-time schedule seemed like the safest option for everyone — but if I’m being honest (and I think we all know honesty-that-will-come-back-to-bite-me-in-the-ass is a specialty of mine) it hasn’t been as easy as I’d expected and now I’m kind of freaking out and not in a good way but in a HOLY SHITBALLS NOW I’M GOING TO HAVE TO STAB EVERYONE way.
Let me just address the obvious first question: YES, the Creepy Dude DID finally go the way of the retirement light and YES, life at work was lovely for a couple of months because his cubicle was quiet and empty and I was able to find awesome shit on the Internet like this:
in relative peace, without a bunch of complainy life suckage going on next to me. But then they hired a new lady to take Creepy Dude’s place, and while she’s very nice she also reallyreallyreallyreally likes to talk. Reallyreally. Like, A LOT. Like, ALL DAY. About her plants and car problems and pets and car problems and politics and car problems and how hard it is to learn all of the acronyms at the Department of Melancholy (DOM). Did I mention her car problems? Oh, I did? I’m sorry, I guess that’s just because she WILLNOTSHUTUPABOUTHERSTUPIDBROKEDOWNCAR.
Also, she has tuberculosis. Apparently. Or maybe emphysema. Hell, I don’t know!! I’m not a doctor!! But whatever it is I DO know it must be super serious because this lady has not stopped coughing since she walked in the building two months ago. She coughs all day long, every day, and I know I should feel sorrier for her or be more concerned about her health or call 911 or something but have you ever had to listen to someone cough NONFUCKINGSTOP for eight hours a day? It’s all I can do to not stab us BOTH in the face.
Anyway my point is that coming to work three days a week instead of five was supposed to make things easier but I’m finding that the three days I’m in the office are now about a thousand times harder to get through. I think maybe I’d just gotten numb to the 40-hour routine and now I have two extra days a week to thaw out so when I come back on Monday morning I’ve got the feeling back in my digits and JESUS AND CHRISTMAS THIS PLACE IS PAINFUL.
Plus, some asshole stole my iPod player thingy from my desk so now I’m forced to listen to Austin radio all day and it’s awful, just awful. For a place that likes to bill itself as the “Live Music Capital of the World” Austin, Texas, has a shockingly shitty selection of radio stations. No jazz, no classic rock, but about 15 Tejano stations and you can’t escape the fucking Christian Rock. Plus the reception’s really bad in my building (which also smells like farts, I don’t know if I mentioned that before but it totally does) (not MY farts, obviously — MY farts smell like egg salad) and all I can really get is MAJIC 95 easy listening which so far this morning has included an in-depth discussion of Dancing with the Stars and not one, but TWO Michael Bolton songs. SOB.
And THEN yesterday I came in to the office and this notice was waiting for me, I swear I did NOT make this up, it really happened I swear to god it did:
Where is Michael Bolton when you need him?
P.S. For those of you worried about me getting “Dooced” here is what I say to that: BRING. IT.Stumble it!