I just moved into a new building at work. Actually, it’s not a new buillding. It’s the old building. I used to be in the new building. My back was to a floor-to-ceiling window on the 22nd floor. Now I’m on the 10th floor in the old building and my back is to a wall. I no-longer have unlimited web-surfing capability because my new boss is right across the aisle. It’s really fucked up, too, because my job is exactly the same. My boss’s boss’s boss decided that my resposibilties should be shifted to a different part of the group and I should have a new boss that would now be responsible for my responsibilities.
However, nothing has changed. My new boss goes home before 6PM. I stay and correspond with my old boss (who is still in the other building) via e-mail and telephone doing work-like stuff. Awesome. It’s exactly the same as before except now I don’t get a free sandwich because my boss leaves before he can buy me a sandwich. My old boss would gladly buy me a sandwich but she is now six blocks away. At least this building has free soda. That’s going to save me about $3 a day in soda fees.
Her: "Does he buy you dinner?"
Me: "No, he goes home."
So, even though I need to pay for my own sandwich when I work late, at least there are a lot of sandwich options nearby. There's a Subway and a Potbelly's across the street, a Quizno's a block east, and you've got Uncle Steve's Deli two blocks west. One time a long time ago, back before I even moved into the new building, I walked into Uncle Steve's deli to check it out. There was an old, white, mean-looking guy standing behind the counter. "This must be Uncle Steve," I thought. I ordered a turkey sandwich. Uncle Steve stared blankly at me. I added: "...on wheat," and he proceeded to make my sandwich. I got my sandwich to go and got the hell out of there because I was scared of Uncle Steve. He didn't say a damn thing the whole time I was in there. Actually, I'm afraid of all humans. Uncle Steve was no exception.
So, while I don't like having to pay for my own working-late sandwiches, I do enjoy the free pop. Also, the free pop is on the 20th floor, and I'm on the 10th floor. It's very convenient because there is no way in hell I'm going to pay for soda when I know it is free on the 20th floor, but I don't always feel like going up to the 20th floor to get it. You see, you have to do this little elevator dance to get up there. There's no direct route to the 20th floor. You have to transfer on 14. It's annoying. So, I'm saving money and drinking less soda. Not too much less, just a little less.
Right now there is a crowd of 21-year-old interns yapping nearby. I don’t know why they chose to yap near me, but that’s how it goes. I guess this building just has roaming packs of yapping interns. Listening to them talk makes me want to gouge out my eardrums with fondue forks. The conversation is going something like this:
“OMG I’m flying tomorrow and can’t bring lip gloss on the plane”
“I lost 20 pounds. I'm awesome.”
“OMG once I lost a half pound in a day.”
“Does this hair clip make my ankles look fat?”
Did I sound this annoying when I was 21? Did I ever cause anyone to shove fondue forks in their ears? Is this how I sound to 35-year-olds? Also, did you know that you can lose a half pound in ten seconds by pissing out eight ounces of piss?
That is all.