62/365: Litany of Drivel

Sent 1 June 2010

Before I found a job that I loved I needed to find a way of preserving my sanity and that was through writing somewhat ranty recollections of my day and sending it to friends. This is an example back from when I worked in a hospital…

It was a dreary day at work, the only brightness was a bunch of red roses that sat on the desk, stark in contrast to the bland surroundings. I thought to myself, why on earth did the flower man bring red roses? I mean, what happened to the obligatory oriental lilles that drop their stupid stamens all over my work shirts? Or even the time he brought a bizarre arrangement consisting of dead branches and a couple of figs, that seemed to fit in more than the red roses. I wondered if it was to try and put us all into a romantic mood, so that when an annoying person came in we could ignore them whilst falling into a Mills and Boon style day dream. But no amount of heaving bosoms or rippling chests could draw my attention away from Mr Obnoxious who walked in, gold chains flashing at his thick throat, demanding why we didn’t have enough signs pointing the way to Day Procedure. When I pointed out that there was in fact 7 signs pointing the way he began to rant about a glass door that was apparently locked. It wasn’t. I checked. He was just a douche. Plus do I look like I get paid enough, not only to sit here and listen to his drivel, but to actually make important signage decisions? I’m pretty sure my badge says Clerk and not CEO or Sign Maker, I don’t think I have as much sway as he may have thought.
But alas I digress. So it was a dreary day. B***h face from hell managed to file her nails and make an appointment for a fake tan in the first few hours after I had arrived, while I was literally running back and forth, with a slightly crazed and frothing expression on my normally placid face. It was then she pulled out her mobile phone and proceeded to send a text message. But no, she couldn’t send a text message like a normal and sane person. She had to leave the keypad noises on and turned up to “Very F**king Annoying”, while stabbing at the keys with her acrylic nailed fingers. I don’t know whether she was transcribing the complete works of Dickens or simply writing a really long list about why golf and AFL make her life meaningful, but she was there, keys making a cacophonous litany of drivel, for at least 15 minutes while I searched the Internet for ways to kill myself with office supplies.
She then suddenly turned to me, a look of excitement in her crinkled face and said “Guess what! The Eagles won” and it was then my soul died a little.

Till tomorrow



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