I’m back at work and it’s only been three days and I wanna have a really stiff drink or ten and sleep like a fucking baby. (And possibly wake up already retired.) My job always eases us back in or at least that’s the way they look at it. A nice welcome back breakfast of runny eggs, frisbee style pancakes, some mystery meat covered in a red sauce and soggy bacon, and oh yeah, what I thought would be the only edible item, fruit. (You know how I feel about fruit, but in this case I was glad to see it.) Except for the fact that it was pretty shit-tacular. Watermelon with seeds, sour as fuck grapes and mushy strawberries with the green tops still attached. (What the fucking fuck? Unless they’re dipped in chocolate that shit needs to be removed. These were not dipped in chocolate.) Needless to say I ate hardly anything. And I ended up drinking out of Work BFF’s glass because mine had some white chunky thing floating in it. (Let the illness passing begin!)
We then proceed to sit through a boring series of meeting and more meetings and once again meetings, where my boss lays down the law and has that come to jesus talk with the peeps she knows are gonna be fuck-ups. It’s by no means exhausting, but it is boring as fuck.
But the ease in ends two days later and I’m hit with that what the fuck am I doing feeling and sometimes I wanna ugly cry in the bathroom and reconsider my career choice. Anyone else have a job where their office is filled with 58 rolls of paper towels, 87 boxes of Kleenex, 58 tubs of antibacterial wipes, 87 gallon ziplock bags and their even more interesting counter part, 87 quart sized? The list is pretty much endless along with ever finding my desk again. But my personal favorite are the 1,870 UNSHARPENED pencils! Motherfucker…have you ever tried to sharpen that many pencils??? And don’t even get me started on pencil sharpeners!
Dear Amazon,
Don’t call it industrial if it can’t make it more than two months before it needs to be replaced. Yep, I sharpen a lot of fucking pencils. A LOT!!! And when your sharpener craps out and only sharpens half a pencil, I’m tempted to stab myself in the eye with it just get out of ever having to sharpen pencils again.
Love,
PM2
But in the end, none of this a has anything to do with my job. No where in my job description does it say, collector of mass quantities of cleaning supplies, and writing utensils, sharpener of astronomical amounts of #2 pencils with a half-assed sharpener, owner of a million fucking glue sticks, (like enough to glue a fucking elephant to the ceiling) and controller of shear fucking chaos. Yet somehow this is where I find myself and after a drink and a good long soak in the bathtub, I’ll do it all over again tomorrow…because I secretly love it. (Not all this shit, but my actual job.)
Not like it’s a mystery, but take a guess what I do for a living??? 😉
PM2
