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I've got a few minutes to kill before I can leave, and I could work but that's not going to happen. Let's talk shit about the people I work with, shall we? First we have Speakerphone Guy. This guy keeps his phone at top volume and dials very slowly so that we can all make guesses as to who he's calling. He doesn't pick up the handset until the other person answers, but he usually lets them get through their introductory spiel. "ABC Companies, this is Joyce, how may I direct your call?" Sometimes, this guy whistles. Have I ever mentioned how much whistling makes me want to kill? Well, it does. Then we have Girl Who Can't Retain Information. She has asked me seven times (I'm keeping a tally) in the last two days if I have a certain file. No, you dumb bitch, I still don't have it. Stop asking. She also never writes down how to do anything, so every day is like her first. She sucks. Then we have Boss's Daughter, or Princess. Princess firmly believes that her shit does not stink, and if it did, she would simply order it not to and it no longer would. She is five foot five and weighs one hundred pounds. She is a perfect size one. Her toenails are painted bright red. And she is a vicious bitch, but the most dangerous kind: the kind that seems for all the world to be the nicest girl you have ever met. Until you turn around, and then watch out. Her claws have cut many people in the office, but no one will ever say a word against her. Except for me, but I have some sort of strange immunity in the office. I don�t ask why. Then there�s Tries Too Hard Lady, also known as my very own DMIL. Tries Too Hard Lady wants to be in every conversation. She wants to be in every inside joke, and even if she isn�t she�ll laugh anyway. She cackles too loudly and teases a bit too meanly to make herself look better. She cuts herself down and looks around for someone to say, �Oh no, that�s not true. You�re thin and beautiful.� Thing is, most of us are tired of it, and hardly anyone takes the bait anymore. So she�s getting meaner. Let�s not forget Crazy Girl. Crazy Girl is a breath of fresh air. Just moments ago she leaned over my desk and almost fell (which happens all the time) and caught herself by putting her hand on my mousepad. It�s the kind with the gel wrist-rest. When she touched it, she exclaimed, �Ew! It feels all mushy like my butt!� See? She�s crazy. She�s always up for a bottle of wine or a pizza. She rules. She keeps me sane. There are more, but I�m bored with typing. I�ll continue this another time. It�s been fun. Kids are: I'm home now. Watching American Idol. Last person who pissed me off: DC*FS lady that was at my house AGAIN today. Leave us alone! Heard in my house: "I want cheesy eggs, Mommy!" Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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