Boy Look At This Body. I Work Out. Fine. I WORKED OUT, Singular, Once.

Disclaimer: I very much like my job and very much like all of the people with whom I work.  Today was just rough.

Hey blogstalkers.

I was fully intending on posting something charming and funny today, even started writing a cheerful little thing or two before work, but then I had the worst day of all time (I may be slightly exaggerating) and came home to try to finish that sweet-as-sugar post and was like "Aaarrggh too happy, and deleted everything I had written this morning in a fit of pique."

So now you are all getting this post, which is bitter and crotchety.  DEAL WITH IT.  (Sorry, bad day.)

What happened was this.

I got to work at eight like normal and checked my calendar.  And realized I had a five hour meeting from 9 til 2.  And then I banged my head on the side of my cube a little until the very nice lady that sits next to me asked me to stop.

When nine'o'clock rolled around I hobbled (I am very sore because my new personal trainer is evil and thinks lunges and squats are just the most divine way to spend an evening apparently) to the conference room and planted my butt in a chair for what I thought would be the next five hours.

And then I sat and listened to some dude (who was very smart and probably a perfect gentleman) talk about 'asset valuation' and 'impairment basis' for nine hours, without stopping, thru lunch, past going-home time, for nine hours.


This is what I did for those nine hours.


Today's Inner Monologue (brought to you by that horrible color you get when you mix all of the other colors together and the letter F)


Hour One: "You know what, this won't be so bad, you woke up on the correct side of the bed today, you can smile your way through this."

Hour Two:


Hour Three:  "Pay Attention, Pay Attention, Tax Accounting, Pay Attention."

Hour Four:  May have accidentally gotten lost in a fantasy where I attended a Maroon Five concert in high school and then Adam Levine fell in love with me and then I was his muse and my name was Jane and all of the songs on the album "Songs About Jane" were about me, because of the muse thing.

Hour Five: "Fifty-two more minutes.  Thirty-seven more minutes.  Twenty-two more minutes.  Six more minutes."

Hour Six: "NO MORE MINUTES, NO MORE MINUTES, STOP TALKING, WHAT THE EFF."

Hour Seven: "Don't try to sway me with your cockeyed arguments.  It is impolite to even consider murder LAUREN."

Hour Eight:  Taking notes with left hand and writing things like "bubble gum" and "my lovely lady lumps" instead of accountingy things to see if anyone would notice.

Dear Lord I Hope My Boss Does Not Ask To See My Notes Tomorrow.  This Would Be Much Worse Than The Cottage Cheese Incident.

Hour Nine:


And then I got home and the first thing Ryan (who had the day off today) said to me was, "You know I watched how long it took you to get down the block today after you left for work.  I don't think you can tell people you walk to work anymore.  What I saw this morning was more like crawling standing up."

So that was my day blogstalkers.  What did you do today?  Something lovely I hope.

19 comments:

  1. Awwww.... Ryan should totally feed you cheese and rub your feet.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know, he should. He won't, but he should.

      Delete
  2. Oh my god that sounds AWFUL.
    I actually admire you. I probably would have quit or thrown a tantrum by then.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ha! I actually really like my job so the quitting is out of the question. And as far as tantrums go, I have inner tantrums pretty constantly which only manifest outwardly as an emphatic foot stomp.

      Delete
  3. Nine hours?! Poor you. Sorry about your bad day. My day wasn't bad. Class, free cake, then went to buy a gym membership and took an aerobics class that threatened to make my arms fall off and made me wonder why I'm paying for such torture, but I felt great afterwards.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. No worries about my bad day, woke up this morning feeling very much better. And OMG Free Cake? Now I feel like I need to move, nobody is ever giving me cake for free in Chicago.

      Delete
    2. Good.
      It's my university. Once a year they offer cake to lure us to come listen to them talk about, er, something.

      Delete
    3. Ah yes, makes sense, my university used to try to lure us to donate blood by offering up free pizza to poor college students.

      Did it work?

      Yes. It did. For four years I gave a LOT of blood.

      Delete
  4. Yesterday was spent watching shopping channels and now I must absolutely have everything they showed me. Today involves coming up with convincing arguments to put to the husband in order to get said things because I can't live without that thingee that cuts cucumbers into a spiral because it will totally revolutionise my life.

    Sorry you had a crappy day.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yesterday is totally forgotten, having a much better day today!

      Also, I totally watch infomercials when I can't sleep. And that is the reason my husband will not let me go to Bed Bath & Beyond anymore (Because they sell all the "As Seen On TV" things!)

      Whatever, I don't care what he says, I totally needed a Magic Bullet and a Sham-Wow. Just like you totally need the cucumber thingee.

      Delete
  5. Oh my God. As soon as I read "my lovely lady lumps", I let out a big "HA!" in the middle of my office. I then nervously giggled at the fact that I laughed so loudly.

    Thank God there's a raging snowstorm outside that's made everyone leave work early. Cowards.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes! I love making people laugh at work.

      Oh and you might want to rethink not leaving early too. Last year Chicago experienced it's like second ever worst blizzard and everyone left the office to go home and I was like "pffft, babies, it's just a little snow." And then it took me literally 50 minutes to walk home that night, and I was less than a mile (let's say one kilometre) away. And I almost died twice.

      And then two days later (when my office reopened) my boss told me it served me right for calling him "Princess Daniel" and telling him I hoped he made it home before "the snow ruined his new silk dress."

      Delete
  6. And just when you thought you had a moment to yourself, your best friend showed up at your door with a pukey covered puppy asking if you had any "doggie shampoo". Sorry for piling that on to your bad day!

    I loved the blog entry though. I can't stop visualizing you sitting in your meeting, writing accountanty things... ahem... bubble gum... and listening to "I'm sexy and I know it" for nine hours. Geesh!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh it's fine Vanessa. I wasn't even surprised. I was like, of course this day would end with a small puke-covered dog trying to jump on me and lick my face.

      And how I wish I could have actually listened to music in this meeting. But seeing as there were only six of us in the meeting, I had to look like I was paying total attention. Luckily I have perfected the art of looking like I'm being attentive while simultaneously rocking out to LMFAO in my head.

      Delete
  7. Maria T.3/04/2012

    "Crawling standing up"?? WAHAHAHA!

    9 hour meeting? Oh my shattered nerves!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes Ryan fancies himself quite the comedian. He was pretty proud of 'crawling standing up.'

      And nine hour meetings are not something I recommend. They are the worst.

      Delete
  8. Did they at least give you lunch? A NINE hour meeting? I admire you greatly for managing to make it through that. One of my favorite authors says she imagines she is royalty and has to look interested/not yawn etc. during boring stuff, unless she can list various forms of murder on something (she writes murder mysteries so that isn't nearly has sociopathic as it sounds.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They did give us a lunch, but the guy just talked right through it. It was bad enough watching him talk for the first five hours. I don't think it was fair to make me watch him talk whilst eating during the sixth.

      I was not far from the point of writing down various forms of murder near the end. And I do not write murder mysteries.

      Delete
  9. Meetings are the. worst. WORST. part of any office job.

    Especially when they are put together by a VP, who actually tells his entire team about being "in the washroom stall the other day, doing a number 2."

    Yes, a VP of a multi-million (billion?) dollar company did that.

    What a tool.

    ReplyDelete

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