Friday, October 7, 2011

Cubicle Hell. Bri's Personal Nightmare.

I have to admit that I'm glad I'm a stay at home mom.  Now if I could just get paid for it...

Six degrees of separation.  Does anyone out there want to pay me for staying home?  Perhaps take some of these silly blogs, convert them into hard cover, and actually pay me for them?  Good grief.  No such luck.

Back in the day, I dreaded sitting in cubicles.  Those of you out there who sat across from me in these grey, cloth-covered boxes know this about me.  I was not cut out for it.  I hated office work.  I hated the fluorescent lights, the monotony of corporate meetings, and the silliness of office politics.  I was bad at it.  My opinion was, why couldn't we just get along and do what we needed to do?  Show up when we were supposed to, do what were hired for, and stop whining about other people.  It didn't seem so hard to me and yet the moment I became a supervisor everything went to Hell in a hay basket.  Yuck.  I wasn't accustomed to people complaining and certainly didn't like people in-fighting and not doing their jobs.  Everybody be happy!  Leave Breezy alone!  Let her drink her coffee in peace and harmony in her crappy, ratty, flannel over-sized sweater jacket thing in her dark, pre-dawn silent space.

Strangely enough people assume I'm an extrovert - a people lovin' kind of gal.  Oh no.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  I'm fine one on one with people but place me in a room of folks that I don't know or in a situation that's too fussy and I'm absolutely miserable.  I believe I've mentioned this before.

This is why I hated office work.  It all seemed so phony to me.  People play too many games.  Unless I could find tried and true, none gossipy folks to hang out with I'd rather just keep to myself.  I had fallen into these groups before which made me miserable.  Things were said, spread, and turned ugly.  It always made me feel bad.  I just liked to laugh, be goofy, and know that I could trust people when I told them I went into my manager's office and passed gas when I was angry with her (I will neither confirm nor deny this).

So here I am at home and per my oldest son, "making absolutely no financial contribution whatsoever" to the well being of this household.  Damn, I hate the fact that he pushed a button months ago which hit and hit hard.  Question time, what do I do and do well?  I take excellent naps.  I pray pretty good.  I schedule lots and lots and lots of doctor, therapy, and psychiatrist appointments.  I wash laundry.  Pick up dog barf (I'm still trying to figure out who fed Tulip what and when).  I seem like I'm always driving someplace.  Why is that?  I do a lot of stuff.  How do I quantify this in pay?

Hmm...I'm just happy I don't have to work in a grey, cloth-covered cubicle.  Somehow, what I do today seems harder.  I'm busier and there's still too much in-fighting.  Everybody be happy!  Leave Breezy alone! Let her drink her coffee in peace and harmony in her crappy, ratty, flannel over-sized sweater jacket thing in her dark, pre-dawn silent space.  Ok, time for my nap.  I'm thoroughly exhausted but before I do, I think I'll go into William's room, sit on his pillow, and pass some gas.


        


   

2 comments:

LadyDreamer said...

William needs to be reminded that he makes absolutely no financial contribution whatsoever. Repeatedly. And since he does nothing around the house, he's not even going so far as to save money. You're saving money by filling the roles of chauffeur, maid, doggy day care and personal shopper. Make a list. Show the costs of hiring all those people. Then burn it into his door, paint it on his walls, and tattoo it on his forehead.
Sorry, is my hatred of teenagers and their know-nothing know-it-allness showing? God help them when my boys get there. ;)

Bri Potts said...

I tell you, they know how to rile! You should have heard our fight in the car yesterday. UGLINESS!! 18 and he's outta here!