It's the little things that push us over: a broken shoelace, a burned out lightbulb, "airmail".
Confessions of an Office Worker.
Courtesy of Sideswipe column NZ Herald.
A psychotic admission from a reader pushed to the brink by a colleague ... "There's this lady I work with. She's in the team that I supervise, and today I'm thinking about killing her.
"Most days, I sit at my desk, look at her out of the corner of my eye and think up ways that I could get her fired, transferred to another team, or accidentally electrocuted. It's not that she's a horrible person. A couple of weeks ago she lent me her Duran Duran's Greatest Hits CD, and quite often she brings me cookies.
"On the whole, she's a good, head-down, tail-up, quiet kind of lady. But there's one thing. A thing that has been slowly eating me away, then festering. Then infecting. Then swelling to encompass my entire being and every waking thought.
She can't say the word 'email'. She calls it 'airmail'. At first, it was permissible. Easily ignored. Quite cute. But time wears on, and patience wanes. And each day brings a new round of 'Thanks for your airmail', 'What's this airmail about' and 'Right then, I'll send out an airmail'.
"It started with the trembling hands. I used to sense her coming, like she had an aura. My hands would start to tremble, I would look around, and there she was, leering over me with her jam-jar glasses, asking me to check the airmail she had just sent me.
"Once I tried to combat her faux pas with gentle humour, saying that if she had indeed sent me an airmail this morning, it surely would not have arrived yet, and she should go back to her desk and come see me in approximately three working days.
"She just glared. Eating at me with those jam-jar glass-clad dragon eyes. And so I shrank. I stopped talking. I took it, like the speckled ginger-haired kid, silently sighing with each wedgie. Dying inside, step by step. Defeated. Numb. Today, I will play my hand. I'm going to send her a staff memo.
"The next time I even SEE her lips start to form the word 'air', even if it's just to say 'airconditioning' or 'aeroplane', I'm going to very calmly take my stapler from the top drawer of my desk and beat her to a slow, painful death."
* * *
It's the little things that push us over: a broken shoelace, a burned out lightbulb, "airmail".
That's the WORST thing this person has to complain about??? Good grief!
Try having some REALLY BAD co-workers, lmao!
"airmail" [img]graemlins/plane.gif[/img] snicker!
Soooo, it's not her accent?
You know, what truly concerns me is the mental stability of the individual who wrote this.
I mean- "airmail?" Come on- that's cute.
However:
"Most days, I sit at my desk, look at her out of the corner of my eye and think up ways that I could get her fired, transferred to another team, or accidentally electrocuted."- ???
That's just plain creepy. Now THIS IS the ultimate paranoia- the office worker who looks at you out of the corner of their eye. You wonder to yourself- what is he/she thinking? Are they plotting against me? Nah- probably daydreaming about their kids... this weekend's vacation...
But now.... this confirms one's worst fears! [img]eek.gif[/img]
<font size="2" face="Comic sans ms, Helvetica, sans-serif">You mean I shouldn't be imagining Chris's little arms and legs sticking out from under a toppled incubator. But... it keeps me entertained for about 5% of the day [img]frown.gif[/img] [img]tongue.gif[/img]Originally posted by Lulu:
"Most days, I sit at my desk, look at her out of the corner of my eye and think up ways that I could get her fired, transferred to another team, or accidentally electrocuted."- ???
That's just plain creepy. Now THIS IS the ultimate paranoia- the office worker who looks at you out of the corner of their eye. You wonder to yourself- what is he/she thinking? Are they plotting against me? Nah- probably daydreaming about their kids... this weekend's vacation...
But now.... this confirms one's worst fears! [img]eek.gif[/img]
Um.. I'm now having second thoughts about you visiting, you realize..
[img]rolleyes.gif[/img] [img]wink.gif[/img] [img]tongue.gif[/img]
<font color="#a62a2a" size="1">[ June 28, 2004 12:33 PM: Message edited by: Lulu ]</font>
Dammit! I was thinking out loud again. [img]graemlins/shhh.gif[/img] [img]wink.gif[/img]
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