I spent the better part of the morning catching up on my friends' blogs, updating links and trying to alphabetize the links. Obsessive. Anal retentive. It's your call. I gave up. I'll have to be obsessive later. It's so tiring, you know.
Everyone in Crazy Land is having group lunch today to celebrate Receptionist getting her Master's degree. We have smart people here. One or two at the very least. I'm one of them, of course. Let's not forget that. Smart, however, does not preclude crazy.
I'm not attending said luncheon because I have to go home and check on the Phil Spector trial. Coming back for the cake, though. Although I shouldn't eat any. Also, I'm missing out on the office interaction, which is really too bad. It's great when you can round up all the nuts, put them in one room and see who comes out alive.
Neither Owner nor Loathsome are going to be there. Loathsome is still banned from the office until further notice. I'd have to forgo Phil if he and Owner were going to be lunching with everyone else. Too good to miss. Also a perfect opportunity to demand money from co-workers for making Owner stop talking about any or all of the following:
*we're all going to be jobless in a month
*he has a tumor somewhere and is going to die pretty soon
*he may have a heart attack (as he eats the worst food in the world--heavy on the cake, please)
*there appears to be some kind of insect in some of the food, usually the cake
*heaping praise on The Useless One, which pisses off absolutely everyone (It's really a way of torturing everyone on the list at once. Owner is clearly a strategic thinker.)
* or picking out one of the people on the current Torture List and just giving them shit the entire lunch
He's backed off the tumor thing since I inconveniently turned up with the real thing. (Although I didn't actually have a tumor, per se.) The heart attack comments have been unabated, though.
No one else in Crazy Land will make him stop spoiling their lunches. Of course, that might be because they all realize that attempting to make him stop will only make it worse and it can only move them up a notch or two on the Torture List. I'm never included in that list, primarily because I refuse to let anyone know what makes me angry. Especially not Owner or Money Man. Never let them know if something rattles your cage. It's just an invitation.
Owner has never put me on the Torture list. Instead, he's saddled me with the world's most dysfunctional employees. Or it could be that I've been at the top of his Torture list for years and he keeps forgetting to mention that's why I've been plagued for years with these particular co-workers.
Owner likes to tell me about why he doesn't like them, though. Sometimes I go to his office and have a seat simply to hear whose name has moved up to the top of the list that week. And why they have that special honor. Loathsome's had a long run. That doesn't mean that Owner doesn't have others on the list. He does. It includes virtually everyone.
Owner enjoys my presence. There's something to be said for being relentlessly pleasant. Aside from the recent shunning, I haven't had a disagreement with anyone for years. Being the only person in the office who refuses to pass along rumors or reasons why someone is unhappy with someone else, I hear everything. People will tell me stuff they won't tell their own mothers.
Knowledge is indeed power, my friends. I think sometimes people forget exactly how much I know, though. It contributes to a false sense of security people have when they're with me.
Post luncheon update. Everyone survived and appeared to be exiting the conference room in high spirits. Of course it could be because everyone had cake. I have to confess I had cake, too. I had it in the privacy of my own office, though.
Once again I've failed to do any more than mention The Useless One. I've known him for so long that it will be a task equal to that of writing War and Peace. Not elegant in this instance, but highly time consuming. There's always tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment