… just happened?

I am lucky to have a job in this economy. The job is pretty neat, it’s an office-style white-collar part-time thing-a-ma-jig. As a bonus, I don’t have an employment gap.

Although I am only in the office about 10 hours a week, I am still meeting those kinds of people. Office People.

Office People

I define Office People as people who have been in an Office too long. Or not long enough. They’ve forgotten or never knew the intricacies of social interactions. They are just odd. These are a few of my favorites.

The Tooth Brusher

Oral Hygiene is very important. There are studies that indicate that good oral health means good overall health.

The Tooth Brusher takes it the extra step. The Tooth Brusher brushes at least 4 times a day. They brushed after breakfast, the brushed after coffee, they brushed after lunch and they are going to brush after dinner. Right after dinner. No fewer than 30 minutes because bacteria grows quickly in the mouth.

The odd part about the Tooth Brusher is not that they care about their oral health. The odd thing is because they brush twice a day at home and twice a day at the office, their toothbrushing time is almost always correlated with my BM time. The Tooth Brusher is either in the bathroom spending 15 minutes on their teeth when I need to poo, or she’s coming in right after I’ve determined the bathroom to be vacant.

The Tooth Brusher doesn’t care that I’ve been nice enough to hold your urgent need until everyone else has had their go at the restroom. The Tooth Brusher also has an urgent need. She needs to get the poppy seeds, wheat, starches, saliva and sugar out of her teeth NOW, dammit, now, before those teeth rot inside her face!

The Tooth Brusher will be at the basin and mirror when I are done. She is standing, still brushing, looking at me, silently judging me for pooping on work time.

The Toilet Diner

The Toilet Diner is sad. She says she eats in the bathroom because there is a small table and chair.

She’s really eating in the restroom because she didn’t want to make a choice about whom to sit with. Because she thinks everyone hates her. She’s so lonely, and she knows that a large number of people will pass her in the bathroom on their lunch break, and maybe invite her back to their lunching location.

They aren’t going to, Toilet Diner. Not after seeing how comfortable you are with resting your lunch on the table that sits in the restroom.

Confession: I used to eat lunch in the restroom in high school. Not because I wanted to be invited to a table, but because I wanted to hide my poor person food and hide from people. When anyone asked what I was doing for lunch, I could say I’d already eaten it. Then I would go to the library and play on the hot new-thing (at the time), the internet.

The Whistler

The Whistler loves life! The whistler has a song in his heart! The Whistler was once told that they had a pretty whistle. The whistler chooses to share his gift by creating possibly the most annoying sound in the world!

The Shy Girl/The Office Bitch

I can’t tell if you are shy, ShyGirl/OfficeBitch, or the bitchiest bitcherson who ever bitched. I say, “Good Morning,” and you say “mmm.” Thinking you might be superstitious, and believe wishing some good on someone would backfire, I cut the “Good” and just say, “Morning.” You say “…”

I don’t think you said anything, you could have mumbled, or you could have said nothing.

I know your vocal chords work. I’ve heard you talk to the boss. You have a horrible superior tone to your voice, too. Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe I’m worried I’m coming off as superior, but you’ve only talked to me via the bosses, even when I’m present.

Shy or not, I’ve decided that you are still a bitch.

So readers, If you read this, who are your favorite office characters? I’ve focused on the negative here, do you have any personalities you can’t live without?

*The photo of “Office People” curiously comes from Preferred Rental of Santa Barbara.


A Quick Update

sea monkey, sea, monkey, stare for 5 min, machetes

These are the phrases that get people to my website. I giggled for sure. I’ve hotlinked the relevant posts so you can see how disappointed the visitor must have been.

I’ll be back sooner than another six weeks. A dear friend’s productivity is encouraging some renovations.

A Christmas Fart

Today, my dog was gassy as fuck.

He farted so much. He farted everywhere. The living room, the foyer, the kitchen, my mom’s room.

I don’t know what he ate that upset him so much. It could have been his stint in the bin. Or it could be that he’s an asshole and my mom feeds him too many seasonal table scraps.

So I had some wine, and I gotta say, that’s a lot of fruit. Musical fruit.

So I farted in my dog’s face.

Sociology students call you and ask for an Oral History interview.

Red Alert

We are at RED ALERT here at PartofthePrecipitate Industries these days.  In likely karmic payback for the worst thing I ever did ;. I have been struck by a quirky case of identity theft.

You see, it’s my crazy-pants sister.

I’m not going to shine my saint halo too much here, but I’m a bit flummoxed.  Of all my siblings, I’d say I was the one who treated her the nicest.  Now don’t get me on the “Aha,” anonymous friend.  I’ve never told her it was ok to rob me blind, I just never beat the shit out of her.  I also remembered her birthday and never got mad at her for having a disorder.

So today, I’m calling my credit card companies trying to piece together what has been done. I have thus far found two accounts that weren’t authorized.  Apparently the fraud was rampant enough to completely shut down my instant access to credit reporting as well, because I could not get mine online.

We are on red alert, dear reader.  I guess all I have to say today is, “Thanks for the Identity Theft, Sis!  Merry Fucking Christmas to you too.”

I laughed today, dear friends.

I laughed because I remembered the worst thing I have ever done to a service worker.

Conclusions:  I am not a good person.

I lied.

I am not in the holiday spirit.  I wouldn’t give away bees.  Not even killer bees.  Dear anonymous friend, true confession: I don’t like the Holidays.

They make me go, “Bah Humbug.”

December drags me down.  When I feel it coming, I put up my privacy fence and don my crash helmet.  I get quiet.  I let it win.

I enjoy the opportunity for a little introspection.  Did you notice how I didn’t blog, for like, a year?  I was introspecting.  The people around me get down too.  The cold is too wet, the cold is too dry, the cold is too cold, etc.  Instead of introspecting, they get festive.  They force themselves out in public, to parties, and on the roads.  They make bad decisions about speed, holiday sweaters, and political opinions to angrily share with relatives.

While you celebrate your holiday this year, whether grump or elf, take a few minutes out of your day and allow yourself to say aloud, “Fuck all this plastic shit.  Fuck everything in my year that wasn’t good.  Fuck everything that didn’t work and fuck this stupid sweater.”

Follow that simple step for a merry and bright new year.

It was a bad idea.

But i did everything to keep this goldfish safe and warm. As warm as goldfish care to be, that is.  But unforch, this goldfish died within a couple weeks.

I didn’t know what to do with it.  I didn’t own my house so I didn’t feel like I could bury it.  When you rent a home, you aren’t supposed to flush anything that you didn’t eat first and I am a vegetarian.   I am not going to eat this dead goldfish.  Besides, it probably had kennel cough or whatever they get at the puppy mill.

So, in a fit of inspiration, well, not inspiration, without thinking about it: I dumped the entire fishbowl down the drain.

I can’t explain the sound, and I won’t, but I am still perplexed by the sense of relief I had once I had solved my burial problem.  As penance, every disposal I ever have in a home, I nickname “Frank,” just like my goldfish.

Update:  Dissenting opinion here.