Holiday Parties

Holidays in the office mean one thing: vacation days. Around the end of the year, a lot of people have vacation time they have to use or it won�t roll over to the next year. This means that everyone and their fucking mom who has a bagillion hours of vacation will be taking a month off. So far, my boss and his boss will be gone for three weeks. Joy of all joys is what I feel when I think about it, and after this week I�ve had I will be more than happy to kick their asses out the door and not have to see their ugly fucking faces for that amount of time, especially after the week of pain they have inflicted on me. The break down goes like this:

Mon: I take on the roll of �Eric can you copy this� and make more than my fair share of color copies for an exec meeting and then a black and white copy for myself because I guess I�m not quite good enough to be able to see that the print is navy blue instead of black. Bitch please, like those fuckers actually care that they can now appreciate the marble power point background. Like they�re going to run their fingers across it and say �Oooooooo�. now *that* is a nice piece of work.�

Tues: I attend the exec meeting where the marbled presentation that I have copied is handed out. Before the meeting begins, everyone is sitting around the table waiting for the commencement of the meeting. There is one of those star trek looking teleconference phone things in the middle of the round table that I am not sitting at. I sit in the corner. I like it that way because I can look out the window. The gopher picks up the phone thing in his hand, looks at me and says: �Eric, it�s time to dial in.� At first I wanted to nod my head like �ok fat fuck, whatever, I don�t care.� Then I realize that he�s looking at me because he wants ME to dial the number. I took a quick time out because �um�sir, are all your fingers fucking broken? The phone is in YOUR HANDS, and you�re going to make all these people get the fuck out of my way so I can press five digits and then the pass-code plus #?� I walk over there and dial in. For the next hour and a half I�m taking minutes like a madman because these fuckers won�t shut the hell up. The meeting is over and the big big boss lady wants some people to stay behind. I figure as the youngest in the room that I would be absolved from it, but since they see me as an attachment of my boss, they ask me to stay. Another half an hour of my life that I would like back please.

Wed: I type up minutes for four hours because that�s how long it took me to transcribe what all had gone down at the meeting the previous day and then get it into some sort of comprehendible format. I finish up and then am dragged to the holiday party with the group at the FAA that I work for. Suddenly Christmas musak begins to play. I say musak, but it sounded more like Christmas music that was created using the same machines that were used to create video game music from the early 1980s. It was also blasted at top volume. Finally someone got the hint and turned it down. The only better thing would have been one of those albums that have either dogs or cats barking/meowing the songs. I wanted to get shot. Instead, I went into my boss�s office where he was explaining what I needed to follow up on while he was on vacation and proceeded to fart while speaking. It was audible and he acknowledged it by saying he was �breaking windows.� I was so fucking mad at that moment in time that all I could do was continue writing.

Thurs: I woke up pretty cranky this morning, mainly because we keep ripping the fitted sheet of the mattress. I need to get some of those straps that�ll keep it hunkered down. I�m sitting here ranting about the week when I should also mention that my confusion over what day it is has also caused me some violent reactions. Tuesday after work I had this inkling it was Thursday. Guess who was REALLY disappointed when they found out it was only fucking Tuesday? I think it was me. All of the contractors I work with are having their holiday gathering today. Afterwards, I get to haul my ass back to the FAA building to get more instructions on what to do while the gopher is gone. I got a voicemail this morning from this guy that I have sent a travel voucher to once. That has been my only communication with this bitch since I�ve been working here and he sends me a voicemail saying that he was not going to be able to make the telecom today at 11:00. I have no clue what he�s talking about. Oh well. Fuck him. It�s also cold outside and walking home from the metro everyday makes my teeth hurt. Above all else, I have another Holiday party to go to with Dr. C for his office tonight back here in Downtown D.C. so as soon as I traipse my booty back home I have to turn around and get back on the metro. Bloody hell. A big middle finger to the world today�I�m out.

e.