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October 21, 2001-5:18 a.m. Today in Sa-land a recap of Friday�s activities and events at work. Friday was a day made remarkable by not only Sa�s ingestion of Vicodin, in stunning emulation of Matthew Perry, but also by some pretty amazing and unlikely workplace events. My tooth didn�t hurt until after I got to work on Friday. Luckily, I had the drugs with me. I told my supervisor that I had taken a painkiller and if she heard snoring emanating from my desk that was the reason. As you can imagine, in my altered state of consciousness, things struck me differently than they normally would have. Although it wasn�t listed as a side effect in the drug precautions statement accompanying my medication, I found that excessive sarcasm was an issue. For the most part, I was able to keep my sarcastic thoughts to myself. There were several instances, however, where this proved impossible. I had noticed this week that the trucker�s daughter�s hip region seemed to have grown at an alarming rate. I thought, perhaps, I hadn�t noticed the change until recently. This would have been totally unlike me as I am usually very aware of those sorts of changes. Towards the end of the week, I realized that what I thought was her extreme personal growth was in fact due to the fact that she was now keeping vast amounts of personal items in her pants pockets. I�m sure this was motivated by her recent concern that I may be inordinately covetous of her personal property. *Sa rolls her eyes at the preposterousness of this notion.* This new closeness with her personal effects has given her the appearance of a pack mule or perhaps, a bag lady without a bag. Friday, our supervisor left at lunchtime. We got an email telling us that we needed to have our employee information cards filled out and turned in by the end of the day. When they got these cards passed out to us a little while later, they were requesting information like our desk number and vehicle license plate number. I, like most of the rest of the staff, had to go out to the parking lot to get the tag number. When I got back, the trucker�s daughter was at the prot�g�s desk showing her where the lock number is on her desk. Then she decides to help me find the number on my desk and explain that they need this so that we can be given keys to our desks. You know I didn�t ask for her help and she practically put her head in my lap doing so. Luckily for her, I was medicated or I may have taken that opportunity to smash her head violently against the desk. One of the lines on the card asked for the jack number. The prot�g� at this point volunteers that we don�t have one. I said, �It�s under the desk on that box.� �I know. We don�t have one.� �You were underneath my desk?� *Incredulous/accusing tone* �Yes� At that point Sa gives the prot�g� a look meant to convey her absolute disgust that someone so concerned about the safety of her own personal items would deliberately crawl around under another person�s desk while they were in the parking lot, combined with an �I hope you didn�t go through my purse, too� expression. The trucker�s daughter took this opportunity to tell the prot�g� that the card was the result of a suggestion that she made to management. *Pats herself on the back for being involved at work* *Sa stifles urge to puke* I went about finishing my card and then took it along with a couple of coworkers� cards to turn in across the building. On the way back to my desk, as I approached the trucker�s daughter�s desk, I heard her say to the prot�g� in her usual calling-in-the-hogs volume level: �I don�t care how much I didn�t like someone, I wouldn�t do anything to BLATANTLY try and get them fired.� Once I recovered from the shock of the realization that not only does the trucker�s daughter possess the word �blatant� in her vocabulary but she can also use it properly within the context of a sentence, my reaction to her comment was uncontrolled laughter. I laughed all of the way back to my desk. I turned to the prot�g� and said, �That is the funniest thing I�ve heard all day!� She chuckles a little and then repeats to the trucker�s daughter, �She said that�s the funniest thing she�s heard all day.� If you fail to see the "irony" and hilarity of this situation, perhaps, you should read this entry. The prot�g� and the trucker�s daughter, surprisingly enough, didn�t have too much to say after that. Thankfully, they both left shortly so I wasn�t forced to endure any more comments that might further stretch the bounds of credulity, even for them. Stay tuned for more eye-popping, gut-busting, knee-slapping tales from work in Sa-land. **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
