Thursday, January 27, 2005

Funny Shit...

- The "odd" moments in the elevator.

People either don't say anything while fidgeting with nervous energy, or they're fully engaged in a conversation with another employee or on the phone.

I find both unbearable.

It's one thing to have the airwaves and government held captive by the "message", but the elevator is the last place of solace for some of us humps. There's nothing that reinforces the "at work" feeling more than being on an elevator hearing the guy with the shitty tie close a deal on the phone, or worse gossiping about other employees. There just isn't anything worse (of course there is). Don't remind me that I'm a greyhound chasing a rabbit around the track. The entire matrix is conspiring against us. Luckily I work in a small building but imagine going to the 40th floor while the pundit next to you is going to the 41st. The agony. Your struggle is my struggle friend.

But the funniest part of this whole scenario is no one wants to get back to work but the tension on the elevator makes people bolt-the-fuck out when the doors open. It's like there's been a hole blown into the side of a plane. I'm willing to bet that after people do the parachute exit they pump the brakes real hard on the way to the office. It's the equivalent of the walk to the principals office. I'm speculating.

- Wishy washy characters.

First a disclaimer. I know that I'm a focused dude. This isn't me showering myself with accolades. It means that I'm singular, purposeful, and not feeling the benefits of meandering through life. I recognize that there's a lot out there that I'm missing and that if I was to slow down, lower my intensity, and poke around I'd probably learn something new about myself and the world. I realize that failure is helpful at times. I do understand that many factors should be considered in decision making. Information is vital, correctly processing it even more crucial. I also know that I dismiss things in an instant if I don't feel like they'll jive. Call it narrow-mindedness or just quick thinking.

With all this being said, I keep meeting people who say they're "farmers." They go on and on and on about the benefits of "farming," the happiness they feel in the craft of "farming," and how they're are so eager and giddy anticipating what future crops will sew.

(Suddenly a dark cloud is forming over their head. They look up. Rain is a-coming. The field they're bragging about is really made of paper. This shit storm is going to pull their file, soak them with insoluable game, and wash their drawers.)

And of course things change in an instant when you ask for crops! Suddenly they want to re-evaluate whether or not they're into farming during your time of need. That kills me repeatedly. You were just rambling uncontrolably about how this crop is going to put you over the top, how you're so dedicated and see the light now, but when I tap you for something your OS freezes. Talk is cheap main. Get your shit rebooted.

- Whoever keeps taking pens off of my desk. I'm serious. This and whoever stole beer out our garage that one time, learn something man. Life is short.
You crack me up!
Now this is funny ;)
best site
best site
best site
best site
Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?