Hole New Perspective

It’s no surprise that I do not like my boss. Most people don’t. It’s not that I think less of my boss or even hate her, but I just don’t like her. Personality? Creative Differences? Do I even have good reasons? Sure. Meetings get re-arranged…work plans adjusted…staff get re-directed on other projects…my whole team gets rearranged and workflow gets fucked, but that’s okay.

It is. Because we always get what we need to get done. THESE things don’t bother me. It’s her personality. Slight condescension? Playing favorites with other staff? Sure sure. Making up words? That one irks.

She said ‘frozy’ once to describe a frozen drink. It’s not even a cute way of saying it. It’s as if her brain stopped working due to too much ativan and wine or something.

She’s never high strung so that’s my assumption. We work in a high-stress industry. For the sake of anonymity and the smallest amount of respect I have, I won’t go into detail, but when everyone else is ‘turnt’ to 11 and the one person who should also be ‘turnt’ to 11 is humming at a cool 8.5? the pace where you walk a normal speed, but talk slightly slower and with a draw and you didn’t grow up in the South.

Either way, I usually get over it. Especially after today.

She walks in and usually passes my office without a word, will say hi to all the staff in cubicles around me though. Yes, it’s very noticeable. But today, mostly everyone is out. I see her walk by and she is wearing a pantsuit….with a gaping hole in the crotch. Luckily, she was wearing spanks too.  Now, I know what you’re thinking…and yes, I did not say anything. She walked around the office for a good hour. I texted a co-worker down the hall who also knows of my feelings as she has the same feelings I do. And I know you could invoke “girl code” …but this isn’t like slipping a tampon under the stall to a stranger…or holding a stranger’s hair back as one hugs the porcelain.

Later that day, I hear, “ugh, hey Akiko?”

“Yes?” (with a condescending tone)

*whispers* “you have a hole in your pants”

*slightly louder whisper* “I do?! Thank you for telling me! Oh my god I’m so embarrassed”

*whispers* “Sure no problem!”

I grin. I grinned that entire day.

Office Pranks

Co-worker has a bowl of M&Ms? Fill it with skittles. Someone has a peanut allergy? Add Reece’s Pieces.

Mouse? Put a small piece of tape over the optic.

Print a sign with the HP logo that states “this device now voice command”

Put soap in the coffee

Hide a small nail in the stress squeeze ball


Out of Order

We all have routines. Daily rituals. A process. Yours and mine are probably similar. We wake up, shower, (shave if we feel like it…even though we still can’t grow that 5 ‘o’ clock shadow we want), eat breakfast (if there is time), have a cup of coffee?

I have one at home and then a pot at work. Why so much coffee? Coffee helps cut through the bullshit.

Your coworker comes up to you and explains how they didn’t do what they should have done a week ago…what you planned on them doing and getting done today….so that you can move on with your piece of the job.

You’re at your desk and a client calls and they start the conversation by screaming at you…but it doesn’t happen once, it happens every time that day.

You’re boss tells you your vacation request you put in months in advance is denied.

Your car doesn’t start……..the list goes on.

But that’s okay, when there’s coffee. You can stand there and ‘nonchalantly sip’ your coffee as you’re listening to every excuse there is on why something didn’t get done.

You can hold the cup and swirl it to demonstrate that “you’re listening, but you don’t care”

You can even go as far as to spill it in someone else’s area so that when they see it, they are reminded of you.

But when you get into work early and you hope that it will mean you can leave early,  and there is no coffee maker in the break room, you go ape shit.

It’s Thursday. It’s fucking Thursday. I was here Wednesday, yesterday, and the fucking coffee maker was here in all its coffee and calcified water stained glory. UN-FUCKEN-BE-LEAVE-ABLE. WHY AM I EVEN HERE. “What kind of sweatshop is this?!” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. Where the hell is it? Why is it gone? Is it out for repairs? Did someone steal it? I still haven’t found the communal staple remover in the copy room…that just grew legs and walked off.

I need coffee. I need it  to deal with this day. I came in early I had a plan I, I …..I need coffee.

To go an entire day without it is like asking a heroin addict to….well, maybe not that extreme.

I ran to maintenance and asked them what was up with the coffee maker. Now mind you, this is a guy who could care less about everyone else’s coffee (and could care less about replacing the toilet paper in the restroom timely, which is another issue for another time), but looks up from whatever he’s doing and smiles. He never smiles.

He doesn’t say anything. He grabs for a piece of paper laying on his push cart and holds it up as if he’s picking me up from the airport. Two hands. Huge sign. Big fucking grin.

The sign says, “FUCK YOU”

you are here ‘x’

My office is literally in the worst spot ever. They say that real estate is all about ‘location location location’ …if that is the case, I am in the ghetto. I’m not talking about the housing project ghetto, I mean I am in the cul-de-sec that’s next to the industrial zoned area and forgotten about by city services with abandoned houses. Maybe waste management comes once a week? If you called 911 the cops might show up. None of your neighbors give a damn about their lawn, if they’re around.

All of that for an analogy but as an office. My new office. My, maybe 10×10 area, which is less than your average office size (go ahead, google it, I did) sits at the end of a hallway next to open restrooms and the stairwell that people choose to smoke in.

I’m also on the second floor by the stairwell, so when other people in this building are feeling extra ‘healthy’ and decide to take the stairs I hear them go up and down. Also, if you want to have a semi-private conversation, this area for some unknown reason has the best reception in all of the stairwel1!

In terms of space, I would take a cubicle in the middle of cubicles where there is not a single private moment…sort of like a prison. I could get used to being listened to. I could yell out ‘circle takes the square’ on occasion to see if anyone gets that reference. If I threw a piece of paper randomly in the air, it’d surely land on someone’s desk, obviously the paper would read, “HELP US! WE’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED” It would garner a slight chuckle and I’d be able to tell where it landed.

As I moved in today, the security officer came by with the ‘exit strategy.’ He had a printed copy of a copy of a copy of the building layout for this floor and marked my office with an ‘x’ and an arrow drawing toward it stating “you are here”

Yes. I am here.