February 28, 2012
I know I haven’t posted in a while. It may be that I have been better at managing my anger or (God Forbid) I may have been happy recently. (GASP) All of that changed today.
I hate IT departments. Once in a while, a knowledgeable person will answer the phone. BUT! Most of the time, you get an idiot, a certifiable (if there is such a thing) I-D-I-O-T, IDIOT. Here is how my FORTY minute conservation went:
-I can’t open any word document from the database. It gives me XYZ error message for every doc I try to open.
-hhhhmmm. Let me try opening a document… (pause) I don’t seem to be getting that error.
-Well, I have tried asking other people to open the same doc, and they don’t get an error, so it must be my computer.
-hhhmmm. Is this a 2003 word doc or a 2010 word doc?
-That particular doc is 2003, but it makes no difference. I can’t open ANY word doc.
-How about I make you a new version of this doc and you see if that helps?
-I don’t see how it would, it is not just this document. I cannot open ANY word document, whether or not I created it.
-Oh, so you can open any word document?
NO ASS HOLE. I OBVIOUSLY HAVEN’T BEEN SAYING THAT.
This makes my blood boil, I think my veins are going to boil over and I am either going to explode with rage or have a heart attack. Either way, I would be in a better place than sitting here on the phone with IT.
February 15, 2012
I swear – I work with the craziest people. Today, the topic has shifted from Love to Death. Seriously, death, funerals, and life insurance. Why are you telling about what you want after you die?
First of All, when you die, you are dead. You truly have no influence on what your family does to you. Just because you say, “do this!” — doesn’t mean they are going to do it. Second of all, I don’t need life insurance right now. Quit telling me to get it. I need to do things like pay rent – you know, something that helps me out when I am ALIVE. Third, if you want to be cremated, why would you tell your family to rent a coffin for your viewing? What kind of sense does that make?
Why? Why? WHY are you telling me about your death?! I don’t even like you… I probably won’t go to your funeral. I don’t want to know the particulars of your will. I am probably already dead, anyway, because this is hell.
February 7, 2012
I am so sorry to laugh, because the guy is a great guy, BUT…
There is a man at work, just looking at his computer, mumbling under his breath. He is saying things like:
-What the HELL is THAT?
-I have NEVER seen that.
-Seriously, WTF is this?
-Who would send something like this?
-Why is that there?
-WHAT IS THIS?
-Oh My God….
Now, I can’t see his computer screen, but I am DYING to know what he is looking at! Every time he lets out a whisper, I get more interested. Also, I am starting to imagine the possibilities of what it COULD be… Elephant porn? Ripley’s Believe It or Not? Something related to work? (Nahhhh…) A cruise ship held up by fire ants that can walk on water? Does Betty White have a sex tape?
February 2, 2012
People have a habit of over-sharing with me. I never ever EVER thought I was a “TMI” kind of person – I thought I would never care what details people decided to tell me. For the most part, I still don’t. But, there is always that one person that decides they are going to push the boundaries; they are going to test my gag reflex. They are just going to go for it.
Everyday, I come into work, mind my own business, and try my best not to talk to ANYONE. This is on purpose. It is not because I am antisocial or shy. It is because the people here are certifiable. I just try to take Rusty’s advice – “be specific but not memorable, be funny but don’t make him laugh. He’s got to like you then forget you the moment you’ve left his side.” This is how I try to get through the work day.
With that in mind, why would you tell ME about your stretch marks from pregnancy? I don’t care what yours look like in comparison to your friend’s. IN FACT, I don’t want to hear about what it was like to be pregnant or give birth. I don’t want to know about anything regarding your reproductive organs. WHY DO YOU THINK I CARE?
January 30, 2012
I have been pondering these questions. The nature of the questions will convey my point.
How do you not notice when:
-You pee on the seat? You have to turn around to flush.
-Spill your beverage in the kitchen? You have less in your glass.
-Talk on the phone to loudly? Everyone closes their doors… if they are lucky enough to have doors.
-Share too much personal information? Seriously, breast pumps are TMI.
Why do you think I care about:
-Your ideas surrounding politics?
-What you should get your boyfriend for Valentines Day?
-How much work you claim to be doing?
Do you really think you are too important to:
-Say please and thank you?
-Remember anyone’s name?
-Put more paper in the printer when it runs out?
-Check your own calendar?
-Use your inside voice inside?
Even Mr. Rude Has Better Manners than You.
January 27, 2012
I have been holding out on this topic for quite some time. This is possibly the MOST annoying thing in the world to me. I can’t even describe the feeling of rage and utter annoyance that a slurp or an open mouth chew gives me. I should NEVER be able to hear you eat.
If you are going to eat crunchy cereal at work, you better know how to eat properly. You better close your mouth when you chew, refrain from slurping off your spoon, and be able to put a spoon in your mouth without scraping your teeth across it. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE… DOES NO ONE ELSE NOTICE???
Manners were a very big part of my upbringing. Manners at the dinner table were emphasized… to say the least. They were so important, that if we had a silent supper at my house, you wouldn’t have even known we were eating.
To hear some one eat is truly torture to me. I understand that I may be a little extreme on this, but to hear you smack your lips while your food and beverage swish around in your mouth, makes me want to simultaneously vomit and punch you so hard you won’t be able to eat for weeks.