So, hi there. This morning a truckload of new temps were brought in and dumped in our department. Those among us who were assigned a new temp to train were given very light workloads. Those of us who weren�t given a temp to train were given extra-heavy workloads. Guess which group I fell into? Of course. What else? I�ll never, ever get caught up. Never. I�ve stopped pretending I�ll ever catch up.

My work attitude can now be summed up in one succinct phrase: �Who fucking cares?� or maybe it�s just �Eh, whatever.� I do my job with the minimum required effort and I�ve dropped any desire to go the extra mile or inch or, eh, whatever.

I will say, I kind of miss the comic relief that Milton brought. I still do loans for him, but I rarely see him unless there�s a problem or I need a question answered in a confusing non-layman way.

I feel sorry for him though, because his new desk is in a vilely-lit section off in the far corner of the floor. Have you seen "Joe Versus the Volcano"? It's sort of lit like the basement office in that movie- fluorescent lighting at half-mast, with an erratic buzzy flicker to it. I don't even like going over there because it makes me feel all woozy and sick. I can�t imagine what it must be like to work under those conditions. However, I am talking about Milton, the man who can�t tell any difference between skank-nasty loan center tap water and purified bottled water. He probably doesn�t even notice the lighting, or lack thereof.

But good news! I made a friend! One of the new temps is a woman fresh out of grad school who�s temping while she looks for a job.

Temp Friend is cool - we snarked about the loan center and a few minutes into the conversation she asked me �have you seen the move �Office Space�?� Yay, a kindred spirit! I hope they put her next to me in the Lil� Punk�s cube when he goes back to school next week. It�s good to have a work friend again.

In other news, Down With Jesus came to visit and acted like she�d been away for years. There was cooing and hugs and, Goddamn I�m not kidding, babytalk. Then she talked and talked and talked and TALKED about her new job. Yay, congratulations, fool. Now please go away.

Ah, and lest I forget, Life Change Lady sang today. Just stood in the middle of the bullpen and sang some icky little song about smiling. I�m not making this up. Someone jokingly challenged her and she did it. Why, baby Jesus? Why do I work with such bizarro-world freaks? Why can�t I work with some cool weirdos? Cool weirdos who don�t wear appliqu�d sweater vests and culottes?

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Just one more thing...

Dear Fox Network Ass Monkeys,

Why do you make me do this? Why am I forced to write these letters? Can you just go ahead and put me in charge so I can FIX SHIT? My ire has risen tonight because of �The OC�. OC = Orange County. Orange County. THE Orange County, apparently, as if there is no other. It�s on right now (in place of �Keen Eddie�, natch) and it sucks really, really bad.

�I�m whoever you want me to be."

Wow, great writing there, ace. It�s like Beverly Hills 90210 meets A Great Big Ball of Suck. It will probably run for the next seven years, then you�ll have to air lame reunion clips shows when ratings really drop. When that happens, lets all meet at the Peach Pit so I can crack your fool skulls together, okay? Great, now go get me a sandwich, wanker.

Sincerely,

Eh, whatever.

0 chatty monkeys