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I'm Happy. No. Really. |
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new billy?
what the
hell
I was going to write about how cheerful I am today. As a matter of fact, I was walking to my desk specifically for that reason—to write about my good day. But, unfortunately, all the bad days that preceded this one wouldn’t let me. Because the Crazy Dog Lady is now working at the desk next to mine. Why This Sucks: 1. Remember the Foul and Mysterious Odor that emanated from her office? Now it emanates from her corner and throughout the room where we all work. I am, literally, going to bring in a can of Lysol tomorrow and spray her corner down, because I can’t handle the rancid smell which wafts over me all fucking day long. 2. Her idea of a good time: her dog, a jar of peanut butter, and a Saturday night. You do the math. 3. The woman never shuts up. We had been used to a nice, casual working environment where I could raise my voice a little and say, “Oh, by the way, Sheila, I have that file, blah blah blah” whereupon Sheila would respond, “Oh, great, Monique, blah blah blah.” The end. Now, it goes like this. Me: “Oh, by the way, Sheila, I have that fi—“ CDL: "Oh, hi Monique. How are you this morning? I didn’t say hello to you yet. I love that color on you. You know I really hate these adjusters. Why do they have to hurt my feelings all the time? I’m just trying to tell them, you know, the CORRECT way to do things. I mean, take this file for instance… blah blah blah blah blah.” Pause, during which Monique looks for a sharp object with which to disembowel herself. “Oh, and blah blah blah blah.” Fucking SHUT UP already! We don’t give a rat’s ass. 4. In the immortal words of Patsy Stone, she is so anal retentive, she can’t even sit down for fear of sucking up the furniture. Here’s what happened today. I was walking to my desk with a styrofoam cup in my hand. It had a little bit of ice in it. I needed my hand free to put my hair back up. I dropped the cup in the nearest trash can, which also happened to be, HER trash can. HERS. She is so goddamn possessive of HER trash can that, I shit you not, she took the cup OUT of the trash can, put it on the floor, and said, “I’ll throw that away in the kitchen.” Then she went into this long speech about how the tiny amount of ice would melt and make HER trash can (which is lined with a plastic bag) “sticky” and I should believe her because, “I have cleaned out SO MANY trash cans in my life, trust me, I know.” Then, she actually moved HER trash can, so it is now under her desk and I cannot ever, ever reach it or sully it again. 5. She makes every single person in the office her confidante. For instance, yesterday. One of the adjusters (Mike, actually) had asked her not to celebrate his birthday, under any circumstances. So, on his birthday, she gives him a card and a cake. He comes back, really pissed that she hasn’t respected his wishes, and chews her out. First me, then Joan, then Sheila, then who knows who the hell else, has to listen to the whole story, which takes her 15 minutes to tell. Again: fucking shut up, I don’t give a rat’s ass. 6. She is a huge blabbermouth. Later, after Mike had pulled her into his office to politely explain why he didn’t want it celebrated (for extremely personal and understandable reasons) she had to make the rounds again of everyone and explain the story, including the very personal reasons, which I don’t think Mike exactly had in mind when he confided them in her. Did I mention, “Fucking shut up, I don’t give a rat’s ass”? Oh yes. I guess I did. 7. She is also a tattletale. I had confided in her (god knows why, but I did) about something I saw in the office that kind of creeped me out, and she went running to Candy the Hysterical, who called me that night at home, hysterical, to confirm CDL’s story, which almost got one person fired. 8. In addition to the above, she’s a two-faced, scraggly, annoying, irritating, passive-agressive, hypocritical pile of pestilence with a martyr complex and absolutely zero comprehension of the concept of basic hygiene. And who, I might add, rotates between kissing everyone’s ass, complaining they don’t like her, and doing the best job of being universally irritating that I’ve ever fucking seen. Breathe in. Breathe out. Okay. I’m calm now. I’m fine. Now that that’s out of the way: let me tell you about my good day. It was…. Shit. Time to go home. |
What
I'm Reading:
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. This is killing me, man.What I'm Writing: Filling out a job application.
Tax refund green.Journal Quote of the Day: "Ugh. Admittedly, I didn't see the whole thing, but what I did see seemed to consist of everyone who met Audrey Hepburn telling her how absolutely beautiful and charming and fabulous and special she was and Audrey batting her eyelashes and simpering and saying, 'Who me? Oh no, you couldn't possibly mean me.'"Random Tidbit:
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