PC Load Letter? What the Fuck Does That Mean?

Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment.
Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment.
Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment.
Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment.

Yeah, I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.

When I make a mistake, I have eight different people coming by to tell me about it. That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled; that, and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired.

In case you couldn’t tell by now, I am trapped in an episode of Office Space today. You know, if Office Space were a TV show that even had episodes….anyway, you get my point. Today I am Peter Gibbons and my co-workers are all Ninas from corporate accounts payable. And I want to hurt them.

Today’s Office Space plots:

-- We have a team distribution email list. We all get the emails. We all know how to read. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be working here, right? Right. So, if someone gets here at 8 AM (*ahem: ME), and you get here at 9 AM, wouldn’t you assume I’ve already read those emails? Because I did. Why then would you insist on reading those GD emails OUT LOUD? Why? Just why? I don’t get it.

-- Since when did my desk suddenly become some sort of happening hot spot around which all conversations must take place? I mean, I know I’m absolutely fabulous, but must you stand in my area while you participate in your lame excuse for water cooler talk? If you’re not served in a frosty glass, please stay at least four feet away from me at all times. Thank you.

-- Furthering the above point, just because I happen to be sitting nearby does not mean I automatically want or need to be included in your conversations. If I don’t turn to you and acknowledge your presence, you should assume I am not listening to you. Additionally, just because our desks are all open to one another does not mandate that we must speak to each other at all times of the day. Silence is golden.

-- Further furthering the above point, if someone sits right next to you, why are you speaking so loudly? Because I’m pretty sure you can be heard from outer space. Dial it down, why don’t you?

-- Lastly, but certainly not least, it’s Halloween today. Which means of course that the Social Committee is flitting about, wondering where they left last year’s lame-ass plastic pumpkin decorations. Well it’s not going to be in the desk right behind me, because up until about 2 months ago, that was occupied by a person. Why then do you insist on banging around in that desk’s drawers looking for something you know full well is not there?

-- And while I’m ranting against the social committee, I’m not on the goddamn social committee. Why are you asking me about things that the social committee traditionally handles? Oh, because you ‘volunteered’ me for it, against my will? Don’t think so. Voluntarily means I elect not to participate in your insipid activities. In the words of Jerry Seinfeld, I choose not to run.

I suppose this is what I get for working for a large corporation. Next thing you know, I’ll be asked to be wear 37 pieces of flair while I’m in my cubicle. ARGH!!!

I’m off to find some free Halloween chocolate. Maybe that will cheer me up. But, the ratio of people to candy is too big, and the last time we had cake in the office, I was told to pass, and I did not receive a piece of my own....excuse me I believe you have my stapler....and I could set the building on fire....

SAY HELLO TO LUMBERGH FOR ME!