Well my juncture at my hideous job is coming to a very slow (crawling) end. In response to this I have decided to be as unhelpful as humanly possible.
My work gets back checked (endlessly) for editing mistakes. The back checker will leave helpful little notes on what I did wrong.
I have responded to such a note. With great prejudice.
just in case I was confused about what I did wrong.
Since I am obviously completely incapable of kicking an illness in any sort of normal amount of human time, I have been crumpling under the weight of congestion, nausea, sore throat, and exhaustion for over a week now.
But, since I also refuse to give up the overtime availability at my job I still attended work. I say “attended” because what I did while there (other than watch Mighty Ducks) was stare my computer screen and feel sorry for myself.
However, a very kindly co-worker found a space heater for which I could heat away the chill.
But since I can’t just ethically come into work today with a fever and a disinterest in the health of my co-workers, I eventually took the time off
To spend all of it in my bathtub steaming away rivers of mucus
And after I got out of the bath the next day I noticed something. Something…horrifying.
What the Jesus is that?
Evidently while I was at work trying to heat myself out of a flu and galvanize myself into keeping my eyes open, I had pressed my feet against the space heater until I eventually gave myself superficial second degree burns.
So I did what any person would do. I lanced them with a pin. And by pin…I mean corkscrew.
It was with this exact corkscrew, actually. I am not lying. Thanks corkscrew-nacorn
And now it looks like it’s healing…
Or perhaps my foot is going to fall off
Filed under horrifying, illness
Look closely at this
ya lookin’?
What does this look like to you? Does it look like candy? An adorable pumpkin shaped candy? Let’s say you dig your hand into the basket of Halloween candy in the back of your office pull this out, think it’s some sort of candy corn, and proceed to eat it.
When you realize that it’s actually an eraser, and that you are eating an eraser at work, what would you do:
I did one of the above. I will let you decide which.
Seriously, why is my toilet yelling at me?
The only thing I hate more than peeing at work is when my potty shouts at me – I’m pee shy as it is.
Oh, and overuse of the exclamation points. That drives me nuts!(!!!!!!!!!!)
Some time ago, in a land not far far away, a girl made a promise to herself to stop eating as though her fast metabolism was going to last forever.
Just a brief example of what I like to eat for breakfast. Mega Blow Pop stories to follow at a later date.
I have a great deal of trepidation that one day my Cheetos® for breakfast fare will cause me a massive coronary before the age of 30. After much speculation I decided to eat better and exercise regularly. The next day I ate a bagel with cream cheese and Cheez-It®s (see previous entry). So, I figured that maybe I would become obsessed with working out and getting a gym membership.
But so far there is only one thing I am obsessed with.
Cheez-It®
And, yes, you are seeing that correctly. It’s a pizza covered in Cheez-It®s and then doused with hot sauce.
Fuck you, health
Filed under cooking, food, horrifying, wine
I’ve always suspected that earth was mere moments away from the robots becoming self-aware. There are suspicious “vending” machines at my job, which I believe might be agents of robot destruction just awaiting the robot apocalypse. Since I live in fear of the work vending machines and the coming carnage, I’ve attempted to become friends with the robots (or alien robots? Maybe a Transformer sorta thing going on here?) and be their vessel once they are sentient.
And the day is nigh. Because when I woke up this morning this was on me:
Hm? What the fuck is that on me?
Generally, outside of my many tattoos I don’t put any stickers on my person unless they are of the Lisa Frank variety
Recognize greatness, bitches!
This is not Lisa Frank. The above sticker is something all together UNLIKE Lisa Frank.
That is a QUALITY ASSURANCE sticker. The robots have assured that I am quality. Also, note the empty toilet paper holder – I am always too lazy to put the actual roll in there.
Well I passed the robot quality assurance test: I’ve passed their first round.
Which can only mean that the day of the robot takeover is closer. I am a-okay in their book but you should probably start sucking up to your own vending machines
Every single day I promise to eat lunch at my office like a normal office drone that brown paper bags it. In an effort to not grow to the size of a planet with my advancing age, in my imagination those lunches are always ridiculously healthy: beet salads and the like.
that right there is a bagel with cream cheese topped with Cheez Its
But I just have such a hard time keeping promises to myself. Maybe I’ll just start going to the gym instead?
Some offices have corporate casual. I think my office does as well. I have chosen to ignore the corporate part of that sentiment and focus on the casual. Sometimes I am so casual in the morning while dressing that I just randomly pick clothes off of the floor. And I end up coming to work in a t-shirt that is an homage to the Disney movie about singing dancing news boys
Oh – you know!
So, I wore my Newsies t-shirt to work. But this shirt not only was emblazoned with “Never fear, Brooklyn is here!” but also completely covered in my blood. From when I fell. On my face. Incredibly hard. The blood clots changed the charming Disney sentiment from one of encouragement to menace.
Carry the banner, ya'll!
You might be surprised to find out that You Life is fully employed by an outside agency. And it isn’t as a representative for a spirits distributor. No, my daytime job is both bureaucratic and depressing. I am like a latter, female, Harvey Pekar (without the cancer, RIP dude).
And like any office job I am required to password protect…well, everything.
And then change my password.
Every month.
After all the typing, and passwords, and computers, and numbers I begin to feel more like a slightly sentient robot than a human. So I made a new password to reflect that: Robots love us!
Be my robot mommy.
When the computers become self-aware I will be their vessel. Hear me, oh robot gods!
I find cooking for the workplace to be one of the most difficult tasks of the week: more difficult than getting out of bed or dressing myself. It is even more difficult than showering without a shower curtain.
So how can one create a meal for the work day? Easy! Along with my ability to negotiate loan re-payment plans, I am something of a culinary genius when it comes to crafting the perfect meal for a busy work week.
Here are my tips:
Step 1: Press the snooze button on the alarm five to ten times. Given that the snooze lasts for five minutes, that means you could potentially over-sleep anywhere between 25 minutes to an hour late. You have sacrificed getting up early and making a meal in order to be well rested. Good for you.
Step 2: Get into work.
Step 3: Be overcome with hunger around noon. Stagger to the machines in the lunch room. These machines, which I suspect have become sentient, spin and display a veritable feast of simulated food. If one was hoping to eat a simulation of a beef burrito, then this machine would be the place to go
Step 4: Give machine a ridiculous amount of money.
Step 5: Take meal, in this case Hormel’s instant chili mac’ n’ cheese, and microwave it until it becomes a bubbling volcano of a lunch item.
Step 6: While mystery lunch meat with macaroni (no cheese to be found) is microwaving, go to other vending machine.
Step 7: Get Fritos®
Step 8: Take “food” back to desk. Open bag of Fritos® dump them on top of the chili.
Step 9: Eat with a spoon, like a shovel piling empty calories and sadness into your mouth.
Step 10: Give up on yourself.
You life is not so great 