My friends don’t come right out and say it, but I’m sure that one of the reasons they hang out with me is because I’m such an a-hole that I make them feel really good about their own lives. That’s okay; I’m cool with it.
Case in point:
The other day at work somebody started passing around a card for everyone to sign because it was the CEO’s birthday. You know how it goes--the card is tucked in a manilla envelope along with a staff list and then after you write some load of crap you cross your name off the list and pass it on to a co-worker who now has to come up with his own load of crap to write.
Now, I work in one of those offices where there’s always a celebration for something or other, but the place has been going through some changes lately and as a result, let’s just say morale is in the shitter. We all know who hates whom--secretly or not so secretly--and standing around with phony smiles pretending to be nice is just plain icky. And the older I get, the less inclined I am to fake it.
But back up… I should say that to me, there’s something inherently wrong about office celebrations; I just want to get my work done so I can get the hell out of there. (Though I’m sure if alcohol was involved and people ended up sitting on the Xerox photocopying private parts, I’d be totally into it.)
So anyway, the CEO’s birthday card landed on my desk and I wrote in my standard bullshit.
Then I passed it on to my friend Rick in the next cell, I mean cubicle, and went back to writing the proposal I’d been working on. Then Rick goes, “Linda! Bitter?”
Rick handed the card back to me. “Look,” he said, pointing to the sentiment I’d inscribed. In ink. “You get ‘bitter’ every year?”
Well evidently I didn’t make the loop in the letter e in “better” wide enough, and with the dot of the exclamation point landing right over it, sure enough, it looked like I was, in fact, telling the CEO he gets “bitter every year.”
Um, not good. Especially given the current corporate climate.
So what does one do in that situation? Thoughts flooded my brain. White-Out would look too obvious, right? I was, like, the fourth person to sign the card; I could buy another one and forge the three signatures before mine. Or I could just leave it as is and figure it was meant to be.
I decided to f* around with the e, trying to make it “better.” It ended up being a mess. But at least it no longer looked like “bitter.”
See? I’m such an a-hole. Now aren’t you glad you know me?
I’m very excited about this weekend. In a couple of hours the BF is picking me up and we’re heading to Phoenix. We have tickets to see songwriting legend Leonard Cohen at the Dodge Theater Sunday night, so I’m taking Monday off from work (assuming I still have a job). I’m psyched as hell for this concert, but let’s just hope it works out better than this past week when I thought I was seeing Loretta Lynn. Yeah…
We’re booked for two nights at a swanky resort in Scottsdale and we have a casita suite with a whirlpool off the bedroom--yay! It should be really beautiful, if it’s anything like the pictures on the website.
This will be our first official sleepover and I’ll tell you what won’t be so beautiful: when beloved BF sees what I look like in the morning. There’s a reason my kids used to tell me I go from “freak to chic.” I’ll either have to slip out of bed to beautify a half hour before he wakes up or sleep in my makeup like Tammy Faye Bakker. So. Not. Pretty.
I’ll write up a full report for Tuesday’s post. Keep your fingers crossed for me, and have a great weekend!