Tag: work

Apparently, there is not enough caffeine in the world to keep me awake today. Bastards! Not even the supreme irritation of a coworker going on and on and on about her new internet dating prospect or another coworker snorking up shots of phlegm can wake me up.

Calgon, take me away!

I just got back from heating up my lunch in the break room. A girl was in there, making Lipton bag tea in one of those sports type bottles with a filter in the cap. WTF? But wait, it gets better. After it was done steeping, she chucked in a couple of heaping tablespoons of International Coffee.

Whyever on earth would someone drink anything besides plain old water out of a filtered bottle? Much less something sweet and gooey, like International Coffee? And then there’s the question of combining tea and “coffee”…

Aieee!

There is a law of nature which states that libraries must smell of pee. The main library at IU is no exception, though until today, I had thought the pee smell was limited to the 5th floor. Not so. I just got back from the break room, where I bought a PepsiCokesodapop, in hopes that some more caffeine might wake me up. The break room–the place where everyone eats and hangs out–suddenly reeks of urine.

O ick.

If you are going to spend all day alternately watching videos and taking smoke breaks, far be it from me to complain. However, when you rupture your spleen laughing, and attract the attention of everyone on the floor, and someone (namely, me) comments that you must be having some sort of party in your cubicle, please, for the love of all that’s righteous and holy in this world, do not–I repeat, not–saunter over to my cubicle and respond: “You wanted to know what I was laughing at…” (For those playing along, please note that said response was phrased as a statement, not a question. She would so suck at Jeopardy.) No, I fucking well did not want to know what you were laughing at, and I certainly don’t want a blow-by-blow description of it.

Fucking hell!

It’s really not a good idea to hum along when you’re wearing headphones. A) It’s impossible to carry a tune that way and B) you have no idea how loud you are being. And, if you are listening to top 40 country music, just don’t. Period.

Don’t mind the blood, that’s just my ear drums hemorrhaging.

Oh feck. Today is Spring Party day, and I forgot. If I’d remembered, I’d probably’ve stayed home. We have an obnoxious number of parties here. It seems like a week can’t go by without at least one of the sub-units celebrating something. I wouldn’t mind it so much–aside from the noise distraction–if the department head didn’t go around, rounding up strays and requesting that they attend. I’m sorry, but being required to participate is not okay, especially when at least once a year, we are sent an e-mail reminder that party attendance is not to be done on paid time. We have to use our break time, or make up the lost time, if we go to a party. Fuck that!

One of my coworkers has an unhealthy relationship with her Lysol can. Several times a day, she sprays it all over her cube and the phone desk, which is right behind my cube. The smell is overwhelming, and the chemicals make my allergies go crazy. Right now, I can hardly breathe and my eyes are burning.

Because we have a bone cancer patient in our section, everyone is hyper-germ-phobic. The liberal use of Lysol is being encouraged, not discouraged. I can understand the need for folks not to infect the already ailing, but this is ridiculous. Hand washing and the use of hand sanitizer ought to be sufficient.

Would the folks in the back row please cease their whispering? I’m all for wasting time on the job, but not when it involves thirty minutes of whispered gossiping. It’s about to make my ears bleed.