Oh yeah, it’s my favorite time of the week, every week: The Friday Work Wind-down Period. This is the period that my employers should take special care not to speak to me or expect me to function in any other mode than Weekend Anticipation Mode. Unfortunately, some stateside clients feel it is necessary to shoot nasty thorns in my high spirits with their Thursday Angst Specials, but there’s a cure for that, son – leave the mail unopened and claim there were “network problems on Friday” when you return to work next week!
It’s only fair because I just got the same excuse from the clients themselves! They claim it took a mail I sent ten days to reach them because of “less than optimal bandwidth” and the fact that their accounts are “centrally managed and sorted”!?! WTF does that mean? Everyone uses mail servers and routers too, but do we blame it on that shit? (No, we blame it on more plausible scenarios like “corrupted databases” and “Microsoft operating systems.”)
I mean you just gotta be kidding me. I could slice my pinky finger with my ingrown toenails, scrawl out a note in blood on a white-speckled carrier pigeon, shove the whole stupid-ass bird in a nearly empty Stoli bottle (which I just happen to have in my kitchen next to an unopened one) head-first, toss the corked bottle off the pier near my house in the general direction of the Great Satan and the message would STILL get there sooner than TEN FUCKING DAYS. And that bandwith bullshit… I mean, what planet is your multinational corporation’s mail servers located on? Planet Pakketloss? Planet Diayllupp? Planet Sub-AOLSPD? (Note to my 4th grade teacher Ms. Watkins who had nice legs for an old person: SOME GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING PROFANITY FOLLOWS.) DEAR CORKY, THIS IS THE YEAR 200(ANDFUCKING)3 AND DIRTY MONGOLIAN SHEEPHERDERS CAN SURF FOR ‘HOT BLACK SEX KITTENS’ WHILE SIPPING CURDLED YAK BUTTER TEA (vintage 1986) ON THE STEPPES AND RECEIVE MAIL VIA INVISIBLE “RADIO WAVES” FASTER THAN THE TEN FUCKING DAYS IT SUPPOSEDLY TOOK MY THREE-WORD MESSAGE TO REACH YOU.
Message body of the e-mail in question is reproduced below, in full:
Yes, please hurry.
___________
Note:
If I get enough traffic for searches on “HOT BLACK SEX KITTENS,” all is forgiven.
Category: Work
Work Request: Bran Muffins
Sometimes working in a factory office with constipated old men really has its downs. I have been waiting to take a crap for a couple of hours now. Its not that there are no stalls free – in fact, I could have been done with my business two hours ago if that were the only concern. The big problem is the stench. The stench that even I, the veteran of a thousand outhouses ripened by the summer sun and open pits at outdoor concerts, the back of temples, etc., cannot bear for more than two seconds. I wish there were a menu especially geared for those over 45 years of age (a full third who work here at my company fall into this bracket) at the cafeteria here, taking the odiferousness of feces during work hours into consideration. Because every time I work up the nerve to head to the bathroom (3 times in the past 90 minutes), I get a whiff of semi-digested ebi-fry (deep-fried prawns) from waaaay down the hall and immediately turn back to the sanctuary of stale cigarette smoke and pasty salarysweat in my office.
To my fellow workers, some of who I know are surreptitiously viewing this blog under orders from corporate HQ: Laying atom bombs in the john are uncalled for in this day and age. I surrender unconditionally in advance; just let me do my business. Soon.
Must. Have. Chill. Pill.
Well, my Yapeus account is toast it seems. The admin hosed everybody’s moblog data, although they have a backup from September. I’m very glad I decided to consolidate all my bloggage with MT.
Regarding this site, I’m still having trouble with the design, mainly because I can’t spare a full day or two to tweak the way I like to – straight through in a single session, that is.
On another note, today my manager pissed me off so bad I fantasized about… with a… but instead of giving into my anger like a baaad padawan I thought about my happy place and sang the Happy Tree Friends song in my head and then silently dissented by going home early.
But I’m much better now.
oooof!
I’m back to work after a long respite and it’s kinda like getting elbowed in the stomach as far as the level of enjoyment. Yesterday was the first day back, and man, it was like summer vacation never happened – both analog and digital inboxes overflowing, phones ringing off the hook, and of course the obligatory Boringest Meeting of All Time in between it all. Almost went postal, but then thought about how hard it would be for my colleagues to pronounce that word correctly and that made me feel a little better.
I have manymany photos up at the yapeus moblog that I sent from my phone during vacation. None of them are annotated yet, so I should just break out the silver tincture and a belt sander and get on with it, I guess.
Blogging on Break
I drove to a Lawson’s (convenience store) today to buy bottled water on my lunch break. It seems I am doing this with increased frequency lately. There is something inherently unappetizing about eating in the company cafeteria… Maybe I just don’t enjoy being in the company of a thousand other people during my meals. Reminds me of elementary school, big time.
For starters, men and women sit separately. I shit you not. The split is about 70% males to 30% females and you can draw the line from where the unofficial but quite visible “men’s area” starts. This was the most surprising sight my first day here, three years ago or so. I even asked my manager about it. HE said it’s because “this factory is out in the country.” Yeah, that’s probably it. That’s also why among 3,000 or so employees there are no women in management positions here – ZERO! Now that’s hardcore boy’s club mentality if I’ve ever seen it. And I am now the only foreigner here. Good thing I blend in.
Well, I was originally going to post this on my moblog, but it suits here better. This whole post reminds me how I’ve left my salaryman series just hanging for like two years. I had to stop writing it because it was no longer funny to me, it just got sad. But as evidenced by my recent spurts of writing – I’m making a comeback.
Now hurry up and finalize Typepad so I can can Blogger forever!
Worn. Down.
Well, I barely made it through this week. Working with clients that are powerful and inefficient is kind of like driving a jeep – it’s fun once in a while, when you want to do it for the thrill, but if becomes a day in and day out kind of affair, it becomes a chore. Whatever that sad-ass analogy means.
Tired. Tired. Hungry. But tired.
Have to pack. Going to Thailand tomorrow! But must eat. Must sleep. Must wake up at 5:00 AM!?! What the hell kind of vacation is that?