Guillermo V. The Corporate Lifestyle (Part 17)
The past couple days have been interesting. I've been coming to terms with two painful facts: I am horribly unhealthy AND I am actually becoming engrossed in my work.
I think that's why I'm subconsciously trying to get fired.
We had a "secret Santa" before the holidays. My present didn't come in time, but I got it yesterday.
It was a StrongBad t-shirt.
I whooped and hollered, hugged my friend Ryan who gave it to me, then I put on the shirt over my long-sleeved button-up shirt. I glared about, trying to look menacing, daring anyone to bring up the fact that Wednesdays are not "Casual Fridays."
No one said anything.
I wore my StrongBad shirt over my work clothes for the rest of the day. I was not bothered by any of my superiors.
I didn't expect them to. A mere half-hour earlier, during break, I had been jumping through puddles in the rain and my kakhi pants were completely soaked.
Today, I was sitting on the floor trying to take apart my desk. I failed miserably. I should have expected failure. The desk had survived many a mail clerk before me and will certainly survive many after me.
However, I managed to get a lot of thick, black grease all over my face and hands. I left it on.
I looked like a rogue mechanic on the warpath.
Again, I got a few odd looks but not a single reprimand.
Which leads me to the conclusion that either I can get away with whatever I want...or nothing I do really matters.
Either way, it should be interesting.
I guess only time will tell. That or my inter-office e-mail.
I hate insurance.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Right now, in Philadelphia, more than 10,000 literature scholars are gathered for the Convention of the Modern Language Association which began yesterday.
Right now, in Philadelphia, more than 10,000 literature scholars are terrorizing bars across the city, swarming upon bartenders like a plague of locusts, only literature scholars are more annoying than locusts because they'll get too drunk to stand upright and still try to correct your grammar.
How I envy them.
Not that I have significant reason to. (Heh, I just ended with a sentence with a preposition; howd'ya like that?!) The night before Christmans Eve marked the beginning of the end of my hermit streak I'd been setting since the end of the semester. Now, with my ears still ringing from loud music and eyes red from lack of sleep, I'm almost glad to settle down into a regular work week.
Then again, Sibbitt made me a gift of a Cuban cigar he acquired on his travels (the kind old man Hemingway smoked) and a bottle of homemade apple brandy. If anyone would like to share a good cigar and get drunk (or as the MLA might say, get literary,) I shan't be far.
What a wonderful time of year.