Mulder and Scully don’t work here, you morons…


I’m not super keen on writing about my job, because I tend to keep it separate from my personal life. But, something happened at work yesterday that just needs to be written about. Actually several ridiculously idiotic things happened and to just let them fester in my memory would be a disservice to the world.

I arrive at work early; because well, I don’t like to deal with people in the morning, and arriving before everyone else lets me enjoy the silence of my office. To my surprise the tech guy is already there and he is invading my quiet time. He’s ranting about the fucking wireless connectivity. Do I care? Not really, but he then decides the issue lies with the microwaves people have in their offices. Really? My 600-watt microwave is fucking up the wireless Internet? Sure. He then goes on a rampage to remove all microwaves in order to rectify the situation. At this point, I scrambled to hide said microwave that I use daily. All the while, I’m thinking, “Hey dick, do your job and actually figure out what’s wrong instead of coming up with some bullshit far-fetched story so you can go back to sitting on your ass.” I stash my microwave, but decide if he’s right in his outlandish theory, I could conceivably take down the entire wireless network of a large corporation by just microwaving my Lean Cuisine Swedish meatballs. (Insert evil laugh) I work with morons.

Later on during the same day, when my tolerance for stupidity is pretty much gone, my boss calls a meeting. Now you see, like most workplaces, there has been some unrest among my co-workers. People complaining about changes, workload, favoritism, basically just a bunch of whiners looking for someone to coddle them and tell them they are loved. I couldn’t give a shit, but clearly my boss does. Prior to calling the meeting, in all her infinite boss-like wisdom (I’m beginning to wonder if she’s insane), she places a comment box in our lounge. Accompanying this box is an email that asks us to voice our opinions on our job. (Now I know she’s insane.) I instantly grab a lime green piece of paper and write, “fuck off” on it and drop it in the box. My work here is done.

But to add insult to injury, she brings the box to the meeting and begins reading these “bitch box” comments out loud and addressing each one of them. Now some were legitimately valid, but some just drove home the point that I work with morons. Of course my lime green comment is the first pulled and it instantly brings a smile to my boss’ face. My work here is done… again. (I’m on that favorites list, so suck it co-workers.)

While I’m only semi-paying attention, because I’m inhaling a bag of jellybeans out of boredom, I notice my boss pull a rather odd looking paper from the box. It’s folded haphazardly and written sloppily in all caps in blue marker. (We are highly educated individuals, with work issued laptops and an expense account for office supplies, including actual ink pens.) She pauses, and then reads, “The surveys aren’t anonymous. Trust no one.” It takes everything in me to stifle the laugh that instantly forms. Not only do I work with morons, I work with paranoid morons. This isn’t the fucking X-Files. No one is watching you. Well, maybe they are now. Nice going!

My only concern is that I hope I have a front seat when Trust No One and Microwave Guy hook up; the conspiracy theories are going to run wild and it’s going to be fabulously stupid.