November 10, 2009

Freedom's just another word for... filing for unemployment.

This morning I woke up 99.3 % positive I was going to call in sick. I had the cramps and felt like an elephant-shaped water balloon. Can you even conceive how uncomfortable that is? Well, it sucks and all I wanted to do was eat a brick of chocolate, curl up into a ball and feel sorry for myself. I did not want get dressed and answer emails from assholes I hate. Screw you for not understanding, or caring.

I drifted asleep and goddamn it if I didn’t start dreaming about work… something like I forgot to call in sick and it was 5:30 p.m., I had 23 voicemails, 43 emails and my boss put out an Amber alert for me... In its typical evil fashion, my super-neurotic brain ruined it (fuck you, brain). So I rolled out of bed, grouchy and pissed off, took a half-assed shower and drove the 1.73 miles to work (I will never complain about this commute, and I’ll be sad when this freelance gig ends next week. Sort of. Well, no, not really, at all).

I made it to work and between cups of tea I did a little internet stalking and read some really fucked up shit about squid sex. That grew old, so I decided to focus my attention on riling up the angry co-worker sitting next to me. You see, he got laid off and he is PISSED OFF at the boss lady. I get a real kick out of egging people on and writing down the shit they say when they’re upset. It’s priceless.

After fucking around with that guy for while, I came up with the best Facebook status ever, but I was rudely interrupted when the boss lady suddenly appeared out of nowhere like a vampire in the night. Damn, I hate it when people sneak up behind me, especially when I’ve been talking shit about them. I quickly F11-ed all of my internet pages and started shuffling some loose papers into piles – it’s all about appearances, people. By this point, I totally forgot what I was going to post for my best Facebook status ever. Bastards. Nobody seems to understand how hard it is to come up with this crap. Am I crying? Holy shit, my bottom lip just quivered.

Boss lady plopped down next to the angry co-worker, and politely asked if he could help her figure out some stuff. His face turned into stone. Hilarious. God, why do angry people crack me up? I turned my good ear toward their conversation, but try as I might I couldn’t hear what the two jokers were mumbling about, probably because it was so utterly boring my brain put up a protective shield. Rather than stretch my neck closer in their direction, I decided to concoct a conversation in my head – I do this a lot, sometimes out loud.

This is their conversation, with my specialness mixed in:

Passive Aggressive Boss: Can we go over this workflow doc so I can re-assign your projects?

Angry Dude: Sure! First, can I shove this staple gun up your ass and rip out your pubs with this here packing tape?

PAB: Oh, you’re so funny. I’m really going to miss your sense of humor (she just scooted her chair a few inches away from him).

AD: I’ll bet you’ll miss me, especially when you’re stuck cleaning up the colossal shit storm I’m leaving behind for you cock suckers.

PAB: Ha ha. That’s a good one. We know you wouldn’t do that to us (she just grabbed a pair of scissors out of his office caddy - I know, who the fuck uses office caddies anymore?).

AD: Look, I’m kinda busy. I’ve got an appointment with your boss to let her know what an awful person you are.

PAB: Wh-hhat? (she just turned white, well, whiter)

AD: That’s right. You don’t even deserve to work in the mailroom (this is not a slight against mailroom workers - he’s obviously angry and not thinking clearly!).

PAB: You’re kidding right? (she just stood up and is aiming the sheers at Angry Dude).

AD: I wish I were. I wish I were.

PAB: What if I gave you your job back?

AD: Screw you and this shit hole job. I’m going viral on your ass, and posting every last one of your 2nd grade-level emails for the world to see. You fucking retarded, egg-shaped, flat-assed moronic lazy pig brained, twat. You’re dead to me (a bit dramatic, I know).

That’s as far as I got because I had to run to a meeting. Suffice it to say, Angry Dude will eventually realize that being laid off was the best thing that could’ve happened to him… approximately 12.4 seconds after he leaves the building. He'll be restored to happiness when he steps into the fragrant breeze of freedom and those unemployment checks start rolling in…

Now, where the hell can I get a jumbo bag of triple chocolate fudge macadamia nut brownies layered with peanut butter cup icing?!

Keep writing. It saves lives.