The @-Work Nettwerk
Mundane Tasks and Capitalist Pig-Dog Commands

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Volume Fifteen:
Today I Said The Word "Rectum" To My Boss

Today's Golden Cubicle Award Goes to Sarah Loff, mostly because she says the magic d-word:
**I used to wonder how we became a nation of lazy, overweight, apathetic, reactionary, sitcom-watching, top 40 radio-listening, short-attention-span sedentary useless fucks. After working a "real job" for six months...well...I think I understand. Can I have a doughnut now?**

Yesterday, one of my co-workers dialed in to win LIVE tickets. We thought she was caller ten because they kept her on hold through all the commercials. We waited with breathless anticipation, but in the end she lost. Then we had lunch. (Note from the editor: This is in no way an at work nettwerk endorsement of Live)

I just got my very own nameplate.

My co-worker Thao was very excited about her snack this morning. She bounced into my cube and proudly thrust an apple in my direction. "Look, it's Apple!" she cried. She tired of the apple quickly and didn't finish it.

Confucious say: Picking up your hole punch without the bottom fastened on securely makes your office look like a snow-capped mountain peak.

www.newgrounds.com/tubby/ --right now!! Click on Pojo , he's the funniest, try all three doors!

Yesterday at work, as I was typing lables for file folders, one of them managed to come off the sheet and affix itself to the inside of my co-workers typewriter. I used a paperclip and then a letter opener to remove a good portion of it, but now whenever you hit return the machine makes a horrible gurggling noise like it's dying. . .

"If something is not worth doing at all, it is not worth doing well." -- Warren Buffett

If I had the authority, I'd fire myself for gross negligence of job duties. Oh well, I guess I'm safe for now as I don't trust anyone else with this information.

Now I understand why people go to bars after work.

I'm getting sick of my consistent typing errors, especially with microsoft outlook. I have my boyfriend's mom's email address in my address book, but i always spell her name wrong and then it doesn't recognize her. The funny part of it is that her name is connie, and without fail, I always try to send the message to "commie."

I was cranky before worked today, so I smoked a small amount of marijuana. I should say for the record that I do not work for the National Glaucoma Foundation.

I spent a good chunk of a day last week using double-sided tape to stick my boss's business card into a publication for our program. I've never used double-sided tape before.

The architects upstairs just restocked their liquor cabinet.

I had an exceptionally good week in terms of free food. 3 free lunches, plus there was this meeting that had way too much food at it, so i scored a bunch of pre-chopped veggies and filled a gallon-size freezer bag with them. Stir fry for dinner tonight at my house!

www.cruel.com/oldcruel.html.

And, featuring the @-Work Nettwerks First Ever Top Ten List: The Top Ten Things Said by Speakers at the Incredibly Boring Conference My Boss Made Me Go to on Friday:

10. "Pardon me for boring you..."
9. "I seem to be going on too long..."
8. "Is it REALLY that late?"
7. "I'd like to speak off topic for a moment..."
6. "Excuse me while I talk off topic again..."
5. "Can you hear me?"
4. "I brought overhead slides, but we can't figure out how to work the machine."
3. "Is this thing on?"
2. "My wife told me I would bore you."
1. "I am going to speak off topic one more time..."

Volume Sixteen:
Even After Four Goddamn Months, I Still See Dead People

Today's Golden Cubicle Award Goes to Wes Stitt, of Minneapolis, Minnesota. **Arr... I be a pirate, and some days this job be barely worth the booty.**

My last entry was just a bitchfest ending with "Can I have a doughnut now?", and on Tuesday morning I opened my email to learn I won the Golden Cubicle Award for it. At that moment, I was eating one of the free doughnuts somebody had brought to the office. In light of this odd coincidence: "Can I have a scholarship for graduate school, a furnished apartment in Paris, and an Alexander McQueen wardrobe now?"

Word Perfect: The Irony Alone Is Enough To Make You Cry

Sorry Little Timmy: Why I've Decided To Stop Christmas (based on a true @-work email): "Holiday Cards are addressed and ready to be signed. They are sitting in the open cube next to Ann Marie. When you have a minute, please sign the cards of clients that you know.Thanks."

Today, I suggested that we should be allowed to smoke cigars at work. The motion was not seconded.

Last Wednesday at about 10 a.m. there was a terrific burnt-toast/ popcorn smell in the office. A quick visual check of the microwaves and toasters in the building yielded nothing. It was speculated that something might be amiss electrically. This caused a supervisor to get down on all fours and sniff her electrical outlets. It was later determined that someone had indeed burned the hell out of a bag of microwave popcorn, but it took an electrician digging in the trash to find that out.

Whenever I type the word "Fuck," which is more often than you might think, my computer's spell checker alerts me that I have misspelled the word "Funk."

My new assistant tucks his sweatshirts into his pants. He's also ugly.

Today I attacked the Y2K bug by setting back the clock on the VCR by 17 years. The bathrooms at my office are pentagonal, so the reverberations of my boss telling me that the idea of setting back the VCR cost the company $10,000 echoed triumphantly. We peed side by side--like men.

I am waiting for the architects upstairs to go home so I can eat their cheesecake.

On my last day working as a WASHPIRG door-to-door canvasser, the last guy who agreed to sign up for a membership went through the entire transaction (writing a check, signing my statement of support, answering our survey questions) with his fly unzipped. While this was not the only thing that inspired me to quit, I've gotta say that it makes it hard to fight for the public interest when you realize that the public is a) not really interested and b) made up almost entirely of idiotic squids. (Editor's note: Last summer I interned for Sierra Club, and instead of typng the appropriate name onto a letter--Washington PUBLIC Interest Research Group--I made a typo, and wrote Washington PUBIC Interest Research Group. This @-work entry tells me that maybe I was right the first time.) (Second Editor's Note: Lauri is the third @-work nettwerk member since graduation to QUIT the Public Interest Research Group)

I'm starting to see Dilbert's appeal.

Our external email server has been down for the past three days but is back this morning. This means that i was bombarded with backed-up emails all morning. for the record: it is now 9:45 a.m. i have been here since 8:05. I have been reading and sending emails the *entire* time. not a single one has been work-related.

From Elizabeth...The Saga of the Bathroom Lady Continues:
Okay, so the bathroom lady was back the day before Thanksgiving. SC went in and as soon as she entered the stall the feet appeared. She came back and got me, and one by one our entire department went in there to check it out. She was wearing a pair of fashion foward--though they were a bit chunky for my taste--black pumps. Her feet were crossed and she was hanging out. WH went in and even went as far as kicking (lightly of course) her feet, and the feet didn't even twitch. SC proposed that maybe she was dead, but WH and EB confirmed that if she were dead she would surely have slid down to the floor by now. AB and JC then went in, but she slipped out while they were "occupied." So her identity is still a mystery. We did determine, however, that she must have been sleeping and/or hiding from her boss. I don't know. . .what a gross place to catch some zzzzzzz's.