Because I am sitting here in my freezing cold office doing absolutely nothing. And it’s not because I’m lazy. It’s because for the next two weeks, just about everyone in existence in this corporation takes vacation. Which is fantastic because it means things are quiet, there’s lots of up-front parking, and I can get some last minute piddely tasks done. But it also sucks because it means I have to drive an hour driving to work only to sit here and hope that I can stretch less than a half-day’s work into a full two weeks. No joke.
There’s not much that goes on in this company during this time of the year that requires anyone to be here. And it’s been like this for every single one of the sixteen years I’ve been here. I never save up my vacation to take around the holidays because I think I’d feel cheated as hell if I did and then realized I could just sit in my chair and nap for eight hours every day. No, I don’t plan on napping, but there are a ton other non-work tasks I can accomplish in the meantime, and fully intend to do so.
Or hell. Why not let us all work from home if things are going to be so dead? Oh I’d love to work from home every single day. My job requires zero face-to-face interaction and anything that needs live bodies can easily be done via phone and NetMeeting. I’d even be nice enough to put on clean underwear and a non-wrinkled shirt if they let me work from home. I would be the most productive mofo they’d ever met. Hell, I’d probably even work extra hours. On the house!
Wait. I’m not sure I like this plan now.
You Too Can Be a Twinklepire!
Here’s a bit of sage advice I’d like to impart on you, dear readers, at this time. Consider it my Christmas gift. A very generous, sparkly one.
If you ever find Christmas cards that are both adorable AND contain a glittery design of some sort…walk…nay, RUN…RUN THE FUCK AWAY.
I was a dumbass who bought not one, but TWO boxes of Christmas cards that contained glitter designs. One is decidedly more glittery than the other, but the end result is still the same. Everywhere I go, everything I touch…looks like its been visited by Edward Cullen. There is glitter literally everywhere. All over everything. My desk here at work, my desk at home, my bookbag that I’m using to carry my cards around, my purse, my sweater, my car, my face. I look like I’ve suddenly developed THE SKIN OF A KILLER, BELLA.
I feel bad for the recipients of these cards. Because while they are totally awesome cards…and I mean, seriously, they’re freaking AWESOME…they are going to be such a chore for anyone to deal with. Perhaps a stern warning on the envelope flap? Beware, this card could turn you into an inadvertant Twilight fan.
I should probably follow up with apology cards after the holidays. Just to make sure I haven’t made too many enemies. Hey, if it makes anyone feel better, I walked around three different stores yesterday before The Roommate asked me why my face sparkled. I checked in the mirror and that shit was everywhere. It’s no wonder people had been looking at me funny. They probably thought I’d just climbed off a pole.
I suppose it’s karma. Twinkly, sparkly, glittery karma.
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