Working Wednesday

The title was a toss up between Working Wednesday and Hump Day. I decided against Hump Day even though I like humping more than I like working, working is pretty close behind. I'm one of these subtle ass kissers who gets great bonuses and raises and perks and oooh I love my job .... And because there's been no humping lately ... wtf? And because I just learned in the elevator that our offices are closed Friday, so today really isn't hump day.

I was reading a blog recently about working in an office and all the crazy shit people have to deal with and how many absolute morons some people have to work with. I've shared many office stories with friends & family, and sometimes I'm surprised that more people don't get fired for punching a co-worker in the back when they walk past them in the hall. Sometimes I can't believe I haven't punched someone in the back in the office ... or at the very least, stapled someones fucking hand to their fucking desk ... Moving on ... I can't remember the blog I was reading now, which is too bad because it was very funny. It's not like I make a whole lot of time for blogging lately anyway. But reading the work blog made me realize that I haven't shared much about work, but I've shared probably too much about my sex life (or lack of lately .. sigh ...) and my pooping schedule. Although, there's a little of that in today's blog too ... I don't know why I do it ...

It's a picto-blog. Which took most of yesterday afternoon to write and is now intruding on my smoke break since blogger only lets me upload two pics at a time before kicking me out and making me sign back in ... If this was any other situation, I'd take it as a hint ...

I've been working in this office building for just under 18 months. I work here with over 50 other "accountants" while the rest of my company is in another building two blocks away. They didn't do this because accountants are that horrid to work with (even though I've heard people state this ... seriously, WE rock!!) but because we were tight for space in the other building and the company doesn't believe in cubes, pods, shared offices, etc. That's right ... we ALL have our own offices with our own doors ... yah boi. In a month, we move back into the other building when more floors open up and it saddens us. Me a lot, because ...well, look at my view ....

Summer view above, bullshit winter view below (TODAY's view ... good christ I'm sick of winter ....)

Again, yah boi.

I'm in the tallest copper building on the right ... And the bridge you see was used in some shooting/exploding/fight scene in the a Steven Seagal movie. That's right ... Steven Seagal once stood exactly where I'm driving in this pic (not a Steven Seagal fan, so there's no excitement in that statement whatsoever just thought it'd be a nice addition to my blog today).

We are moving to the shorter concrete building behind the lion. Right in China Town, which is always entertaining, even more than Steven Seagal really. So my building, I will miss. The food court, I will miss. My smoking crew, I will really miss. Especially on the days the guy who puts his cell phone under his earmuffs and talks hands-free is around. Some of the office bullshit, I will not miss! Thank god they're splitting up the accounting department so I no longer have to listen to the woman who groans in a sexual manner when she uses the washroom, no longer have to watch for lip stick on the mugs when I make my breakfast (everyone knows who you are!!), and no longer have to restrain myself from punching the lady that sent this to the entire floor one day ....  

What. The. Fuck. She has a silver mullet though, so it's pretty clear she's not all there ... ya know ... in her head ....

Mainly, I want to get the hell out of here because of what happened two weeks ago ...

That should read "Washrooms Closed FOREVER". Which, if you've been reading my blog, you will know that this just doesn't work for me. This is more than a slight inconvenience since construction wont be finished until we leave the building. Fuckers. My comfort zone was fucked with. Last Thursday was the first time I stayed late since we had the toilets taken from us and when shit was just about to hit the fan, I couldn't find the damn air freshener. They moved all of our toiletries into the hall when the construction started, but it had been moved since, and not down to the counter of the washrooms we're now forced to use. I went on a panicked search of the office and finally found it ... This is where it now stays ...

In my desk drawer. I literally stuff it in my over-sized Coach bag and take it with me when I have to go ... I think ... I think I just crossed the line of office crazy lady ...

And lastly, where the real magic happens ...

Two monitors because I'm that fucking important, my own hand lotion since I couldn't find the bottles from the washrooms when I tore the office apart looking for the febreeze, a Robert Pattinson calendar that Sydnerella bought me for Christmas (which is actually the source of a lot of conversation when people walk by), and coffee that I drink in the same mug most days so I KNOW who's lips have been on it (mug also from Sydnerella for Mothers Day one year). My phone is blinking with new messages because I never answer it or check the messages (ever), and if you look really close, there's a toy oil truck and a whale under my monitors that I won at a lunch n learn. Oil company. Whale oil. I don't know either.