Smelly Smelly Work

February 4, 2009

I'm not sure why, but lately work has been right next to excruciating. I fully understand that I should never complain about my employment situation in an economy such as this, but let's be honest here--I'm only human, and a somewhat crappy human on top of it all.

So I'm not gonna mince words about his one--work stinks.

If I examine the issues closely, I'm quite sure it has everything to do the meetings--they're long, they're boring, and they happen at the most inconvenient of times.

On Monday night, for example, I had a meeting. It started at 7pm and I was slated to give a ten minute presentation around 8 o'clock. When the clock struck 9:30, it was finally my turn. And don't get me wrong here, it's not that I don't like listening to a two hour public discussion about new lockers for the police station, it's just that I don't like listening to a two hour public discussion about new lockers for the police station when I don't have a bag of Doritos with me.

When I was finally able to leave the meeting at 9:45pm, I had the most horrible revelation in the history of my life: I had to walk home. Our '89 Blazer, you see, was in the shop, James was at home sleeping, and Jared (Mr. Helicopter Parent) refused to leave him home alone to come and pick me up--even for a second.

So I walked home. At night. During the winter. In Maine.

So what if I only live one third of a mile from Town Hall? It was still traumatizing.

As I trudged along in my work shoes, I decided it would prove much easier to walk on the side of the road rather than the sidewalk, which had an inch or two of snow accumulated on it. Just as I passed the pizza shop, I could hear a car coming up behind me so I did what any responsible pedestrian would do and I stepped back on to the sidewalk and continued my cold walk home.

I could hear the car quickly approaching, and just as I decided to look up and offer a wave, my entire life flashed right before my eyes. Fine, that was overly dramatic--it was an empty Dr. Pepper bottle that flashed before my eyes...but whatever.

Long story short, some punk decided it would be funny to thrown an empty 1-liter soda bottle at my head.

And that my friends, is reason number one why I don't like work--dirty, flying objects.

And number two? Well number two is simple--excruciating people.

Yesterday afternoon, while my ass sat in another out-of-town meeting, my brain was keenly plotting the disappearance of the obnoxious woman sitting next to me. Dude, she was bad. Like gum chomping, interrupting, going on and on and on bad. Like wearing a little miniature working harmonica necklace with matching harmonica earrings bad. I honestly had to fight the strong urge to zip her head up in her purse.

Finally, after the meeting was finally over finally, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was her.

I turned, smiled and said, "Oooh, I've got to run. I have a chicken in the crock pot five towns away."

She was like, "Can I get your business card first?"

And do you know what I said? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I SAID? And I still can't believe these words came out of my mouth, "You know, that's funny, I don't have any business cards on me."

"You don't?"

"Well, I just ordered 500, but when they came they were all spelled wrong--every last one of them. So I sent them back. And now I don't have any. Bye!" And I (the quick-thinking genius) ran to the parking lot.

I simply couldn't stand the thought of hearing her voice ever, ever again.

Ever.

And the third reason why work is so very difficult at this very moment?

I desperately have to use the potty, but it's way, way too stinky to enter right now. I can tell because the door is shut, the fan is on, and the accountant down the hall is smiling like he just dislodged a very satisfying doo-doo.

Work stinks.

Literally.