The Rat Race, Or Lack Thereof

Oh my god, somebody please put me out of my misery.

I try to not talk about my job on this blog, if for no other reason than I fear accidentally saying something that lands me in an office with my manager, the company owner, and the HR department. Because let’s face it, we all know that I lack both foresight and a mental filter to edit out my most horrendous inner thoughts, which is never a good combination when you’re talking about the institution that hands you a bi-monthly paycheck.

And yet, I’m about to talk about my job.
I must be either that stupid or that brave.

Or that frustrated.

Yeah, I’ll go with frustrated (that stupid is a given, anyway).

Things have been a little…slow…around the office.
And I don’t mean slow as in, my deadlines allow for plenty of time to create quality educational content

I mean slow as in, endless perusing of blogs and ICanHasCheezburger in a desperate attempt to fill the hours between 8:45 and 5:00.

(Aside: I may be starting to think in LOLspeak. And pray to Ceiling Cat).

Oh, sure, it was fun at first. The Internet was my oyster. I started updating regularly in Facebook and checking Craigslist for free stuff and doing all the other things I dreamed about doing online (with the exception of porn, sadly, but for obvious reasons).

But then it was July and I hadn’t had any projects to speak of for the better part of a month, and I was starting to wonder just where the heck is all the work, for cryin’ out loud?!?

We had a big layoff in March. We lost 15% of our workforce in one ugly afternoon while I was in my living room blissfully unaware playing Rollercoaster Tycoon while out on short-term disability. Of course, nobody bothered to tell me about it until I checked my work email 3 days later and found an ominous email from the owner of the company talking about “low morale” and “moving forward from here.” (thanks for keeping me in the loop, guys).

So while I was happy to be one of the ones who still had a job, it was definitely a warning sign. The first, of many to come, it seems.
In this week’s status meeting, a program manager mentioned that she had CDs that needed labeling and if anybody had free time, she wouldn’t mind the help.

Much to my chagrin, every single department volunteered.

So as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been imagining what other jobs I could potentially be a candidate for while wasting away the hours at work.

I’ve narrowed my fallback plan to either a stripper, or an assassin.

I think either one could work well with my complete lack of morals or values (although I’d need to get into better shape for either profession, I suspect).

And I know I shouldn’t be complaining about my job while other people would KILL to be employed right now, but seriously, how long can a person entertain oneself browsing You Tube and putting together grocery lists?

So every day I come to work I’m bored and anxious, pricing thongs, and wondering how much money somebody would have to pay me to take out a coworker. We’d better get some business and get it QUICK, or I might soon be in the market for some pasties and an AK-47.

Which sounds cool and all, but what would I tell my mother?