- Last Record: 2012-12-07 10:53:28 -1000
- Joined: Jan 02, 2010
This RECord is creative fiction based on true events from the perspective of a fictional character. It is for Tori's 10min Writing Challenge #4 - SUMMER Collab.
“Confessions of a Cubicle-Crazy Co-worker”
I hate my job. It sucks. No, really. It sucks. I wake up everyday and get ready for the same ‘ole thing. Day in and day out. The most mundane thing anybody can do. Hell, I can even train a monkey to do my job. I hate my job, my boss, my co-workers, and the company I work for. They call my position, “the heartbeat of the admin department,” but really, it should be called the “irritable bowel of the corporate colon.”
People irk me. I get really irked easily about anything and everything. I hate mornings. It seems that when I get to my cubicle, I don’t even get a chance to sit down. Not even a chance to go and get some coffee. Instead, I get bombarded by a lazy, four-hundred pound woman who talks so fast, she sounds like she’s possessed by a poodle. And her nails, they are three inches long. Every time she gives me something, she scratches me. The day is coming when I lose all control and ask her how the hell she wipes her ass. No, maybe I shouldn’t. The details concerning that just might make things worse.
Summer is the worst! The office has no air conditioning. Debbie, who shares my space with me has tremendous body odor. I wish this blog had smell ‘o vision, because you, as the reader, have no idea what I have to put up with... and smell. Her BO is so bad, it smells like a Walla Walla Sweet Onion. Seriously, when summer days reach above 80 degrees, my nostrils and I are doomed. And I thought the monkey house at the zoo was bad. Ugh, the smell becomes to unbearable... my eyes water, I gasp and gulp for air. There was one time I was literally choking in mid-air. Literally dying in the office. And when Raheesh brings in his spicy curry rice for potlucks, it doesn’t do her any justice when she eats it... as it elevates her BO even more. I made a list of things to get this week and a gas mask is one of them.
And what’s with the guys in the mens room? Every time I’m in there, holding my yank and taking a piss, so-and-so comes along and decides to chat it up by telling me what they did over the weekend, or create a “testosterone fest,” where they have to re-enact a slow-mo sports play from a game the night before... all while I’m holding my yank! Ronin, the department executive, is the worst. As I’m holding my yank at the urinal, he’s holding his in the one next to me, and droning on and on about the cafeteria menu, and how they never serve beef stroganoff on a regular basis. That shit’s just weird. You’re talking to a guy about beef stroganoff while he’s holding his yank. I dunno... I have a feeling, because of the beef stroganoff issue, Ronin just might actually be “pulling” his yank instead. I mean, really. Is there a sign on me somewhere that says, “I’M HOLDING MY YANK, COME TALK TO ME.” It’s like that Seinfeld episode. You just don’t talk to another guy in the bathroom as he is holding his yank!!!
Yesterday I called in sick. But I really wasn’t sick. I was too tired to get up, so I slept in. Later in the afternoon, I went shopping around town. I wanted a donut, so I went to my favorite donut place in town. As soon as I get my donut and pay the cashier, I turn and see that weird Donald guy from work, from the marketing division. He sees me and I see him. Shit. What the hell is doing buying a donut at my favorite donut place? He might go and tell my co-workers. Or maybe he called in sick, too? The good thing is, at least we’re not in the donut shop holding our yanks.
I have a meeting with Lydia today. I can’t stand her. Plus she’s enormous. She’s like six foot seven or something. Absolutely monstrous!!! I remember one time, we all had a meeting and she fell asleep during the middle of it. My boss whispered to me to wake her up. As I was nudging her to wake up, she made all these loud, unnatural noises, like the Jolly Green Giant or something. It was absolutely terrifying. And when she makes small talk, it’s really bad. One time, she kept going on and on about the weather, and I didn’t know what to say. So, I asked her if she skied. She said, “No,” and walked away. I turned to another co-worker who was with us and his whole being was beet red from laughing so hard. I asked him what was so funny.
He said, “I can’t believe you asked her if she skied.”
I said, “Yeah, how ‘bout that? Imagine the size of the surfboards she would have to strap to her feet to get down a mountain!”
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