Human Laboratory of Unparalleled Misery
The Unfortunate Job Chronicles: Part 2
Back in the day, when I had a job that drained all colour out of my existence, my terrible habit of zoning out was at its peak. We all have our quirks and unfortunately this career killing one was one of my forerunners at the time.
It didn’t help that I worked in an office that would have me spend inordinate amounts in one of the obviously CLINICAL bathroom stalls, just WEEPING in despair! God, not even the bathrooms had the DECENCY to have some personality!?
Everything was SO white, even the flooring had the nerve to look sterile!!
I wasn’t even quite sure what my job was. I just sort of ‘chilled’ and walked around with masses of paper very few hours or so, hence giving illusion of ‘working’. Everyone was constantly running back and forth. Where were they going?! I Knew where I was.
note: sometimes hot man was brunette, sometimes a nice curly perm, sometimes he had no hair but he was ALWAYS crazy about me!
Whenever anyone of any importance would walk near my desk, I’d start shuffling papers, and grimace as to give the illusion I was frustrated with the market, even though I didn’t even know what the market was doing at that point.
note: illustration ‘inspired’ by true events
Clearly nothing. Hence I would try and ‘distract’ my manager from this unanswerable question by going on a crazed tangent about things going on in the world (or so I hoped). Not the most effective of tactics, but in times of desperation, one clings to any useless boat (even the ones with many holes).
I just desperately spewed out any headline I remembered from the hour I spent reading about what the Kardashians were eating for breakfast that morning.
‘Educated’ conversations of this kind would obviously would put a brutal end to any further interaction for the rest of the day, and I’d be free to surf daily mail and read about which reality star was eating frozen yogurt that day.
And so it was, my working days continued in this ho-hum like momentum and I trudged on each morning like a hopeless shadow.
Until one day everything changed.
I came in that particular morning and the office was rather, dare I say, lively. Apparently some important clients or guests or whatever they were, were coming in and we were all to attend this meeting.
Rolling my eyes in despair, I braced myself for hours of mind numbing ‘discussions’ in which we did nothing but discuss what we discussed yesterday and the day before and our forefathers, the century before.
In we went to this very important meeting, and I sat down and started to zone out whilst taking in the ‘key words’. I really didn’t know what the meeting was about but figured I’d find out eventually. From a very distance place in my brain, I heard the words ‘British Hat foundation’, and suddenly I came back to earth.I was CONVINCED this was what the meeting was about and thought nothing of confirming this.
Oh my good word, what a FANTASTIC idea I thought to myself. What could be more noble than giving out hats to the poor and homeless?! What a great institution, and suddenly I was very HAPPY to be in a meeting room with these very innovative and noble pioneers of charitable works! I could totally see myself being part of this amazing cause.
And wasn’t it true that 60 percent of heat escaped through the head?! Think of how many homeless people we could save working with the British Hat Foundation?!
I was quickly ejected from my day dream as I heard my shrill manager’s voice ask me what my opinions were on the meeting and what was being discussed.
I, of course, being far too reliable on ‘key words’ that hadn’t always served me well, was delighted to be asked for my opinion.
Me: Saving homeless people with hats sounds like SUCH an amazing idea. I mean every year homeless people are perishing due to the cold, imagine how much of a difference a HAT could make! Different designs could be made as well! Just because you don’t have a roof over your head doesn’t mean you can’t be stylish….* jovial laughter*
Alas, I was laughing alone and realised everyone looking at me with the most BIZARRE expression.
Either my thoughts blew them out of the water, or…I dreaded to think the alternative
Manager: We were talking about the British HEART foundation. NOT, the British HAT foundation, which to my knowledge does not exist anywhere outside your imagination.
Oh the humiliation.
Needless to say, I didn’t last very long in the job. Some people really have no appreciation for creativity.
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