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Two legged cat

When something funny is equally sad.

When you realize you are working full-time and going to school full-time, with absolutely no expectation or hope of retaining your sanity. 

When a friend laughs at you for being excited to take a day off of work in order to study all day for an exam.

When the magnitude of how pathetic your life is becomes entertaining.

That is the essence of two legged cat.

HOW CU- wait....

I am become meme.

 
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Posted by on March 4, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Typing my way into insanity

Having a dull job that also causes you to sleep less than the recommended amount of hours can take its toll on you. And since corporate culture frowns upon bringing PS3’s to work, there’s only so much you can do before your mind starts “entertaining” itself.

Working with huge lists of names and accounts all day, you’re bound to stumble upon what I call “repeat offenders”. The accounts that never match. The insurances that never get through the system. The checks that bounce like Tigger on ecstacy. Nothing ever works right with such accounts, and like many other things in this world, it follows the 80:20 rule; 80% of your work comes from dealing with these 20% of people.

After a little while, you take it personally.

Mental conversations arise when you run into one of these offenders, and can go something like this:

“Ah, Mrs. Boyd, we meet again. What’s this? Another payment charge? Indeed, do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way? <click. click> They always choose the hard way.”

<Insert menacing knuckle crack. type type>

“Oh, acting tought now, aren’t we Mrs. Boyd? Let’s see you handle this! <click type type click> Well aren’t we a fighter, but I have more up my sleeve~”

<click click type click type type type>

Nothing is working. At this point a maniacal grin seems to grow on my face, my mouse is cracking under the pressure, and I’m smashing my keyboard with blinding speed (APM 400!). I’m yelling threats now, mostly in my head, that is.

“You can’t hold out forever Mrs. Boyd! None shall pass through to the land of clean credit without my approval! You! Will! Balance!

It’s become an epic battle of good vs. evil, light vs. dark, red vs. blue (anime fighting backgrounds are always strikingly similar). I hardly notice my coworkers scooting away as their eyes shift between each other in a mixture of concern and fear. I’m too preoccupied with throwing every weapon in my arsenal at Mrs. Boyd, who so far has exhibited remarkal willpower and refused to budge. An ominous growl escapes my throat and my face shines with perspiration as this battle of wits begins to reach the turning point. It’s all come down to the big guns now, and every motion taken is calculated down to the tee.

The final click. The perfect keystroke. Success! Take that, Mrs. Boyd! Your wiley ways and crooked numbers were no match for my brilliance!

Brilliance, I say, brilliance! Mwhahahahahaha!

With the battle over I lean back in my chair and sigh with exhaustion. Fighting for the good of mankind sure is tiring. I don’t think I can handle one of those again. Hopefully the rest of my list is more willing to submit to the general rules of finance.

Ah, Mr. Mason, we meet again…

 
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Posted by on April 7, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Monday Monday Monday

Yes, I had to type it three times just to convince myself that it is indeed this dreaded day of the week. You’d think the signs were obvious; I’m falling around in heels, sitting at the desk and perusing facebook like there’s no tomorrow. Productivity is in the pits, and I am one poorly timed break away from falling asleep at work. Yep, it’s Monday all right.

Unlike the other days of the week, Monday has absolutely no redeeming qualities. It’s useless, bland, and life would be basically the same if not better had no one invented Monday. No one wants you, Monday. You’re like the white color pencil we give to the annoying kid in class because everyone else got the cool colors. Even brown is better than you. Stinkin, poop colored brown.

Wednesday? Hump day. The week is halfway over. You pat yourself on the back for making it through the 50% mark. And maybe hit up happy hour, just for kicks.

Thursday? It’s the day before Friday, the weekend. You only have one more day until freedom, and 80% done with the work week. That’s a B-, but it’s passing!

Friday? Pay day. Weekend. Enough said.

Saturday? You can sleep in, run errands, have afternoon tea and morning brunch (not that we do per se, but we can, and that’s all that matters).

Sunday? Church is pretty cool. You can’t sleep in but it’s still a weekend. More brunches and lounging? Yes, please.

Tuesday? It’s not Monday.

See what’s happening here? Monday is so bad, that simply not being Monday is considered a positive characteristic.

I’m not blaming Monday for existing, or saying that it should curse the day it was born and crawl back into oblivion. I’m not even telling it to come to grips with the fact that no one likes it and that fading from our lives completely would be the greatest thing to happen since my neighbors got unencrypted WiFi.

But I’m not saying it shouldn’t, either.

Yes, dear, we know. I won't tell you it's your fault. But it probably is.

 
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Posted by on March 28, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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Those Days

And then I get a phone call from a non-English speaking Chinese woman who knows my name, leading to the next 7 minutes of pure confusion.

Yup. This was it. One of “Those Days”.

You see, Those Days are when everything is a little off.

Not hellishly bad, not so good, just off. Weird, off kilter, unbalanced, whatever, you name it.

This particular instance began with the sabotage of my computer at work. I say sabotage because the problem at my computer could have only happened if someone physically logged onto it and deleted my scanner settings. While this was somewhat bothersome, I must admit I felt a tinge of flattery. For someone to so purposefully ruin my system says quite a lot about how important I am even as a lowly temp. Huzzah!

So there I am. Six thirty in the morning, day has barely begun, and I’m already sensing the upcoming Those Days. Well, whatever, I can still keep working, just at a much slower pace. Here. I. Go.

All right, been an hour. A painfully slow and tedious hour. Time to switch gears. Let’s go numb my mind in the mail room, there’s very little that can go wrong with filing mail. What is that? The stamping machine is going crazy? Uh… what do you mean the mail guy is coming in ten minutes and we have to re-stuff all the envelopes??

Well that was a little stressful. Screw it, let’s go back to banking. Ah, sweet, sweet banking. This isn’t so bad, got through a few batches already, let’s deposit this last-

My deposit isn’t submitting. Why isn’t it submitting? Maybe I should just edit. Why can’t I edit? Forget it, let’s delete. WHY AREN’T YOU DELETING?!?!

At this point I realize that Those Days has finally caught up to me, and somewhere in the hour and a half I stayed on the phone with the bank’s technical assistant did I consider the fact that I would have probably been more productive if I had simply turned off the alarm, rolled over in my bed, and stayed home. My supervisor wholeheartedly agrees while she struggles to keep in her roaring laughter. Not laughing at me, she claims, laughing with me. Cue the rest of my coworkers giving me looks of pity atop tight lips holding back grins.

Fortunately the work day ends early, I go home, eat lunch, and sleep away the afternoon. Probably the best idea, because the moment I wake up, Those Days is lurking around the corner. Customer service seems to be having one of Those Days as well, because at both the post office and at Petsmart do I get juggled around from one employee to the other for something seemingly simple, like getting a flat rate box, or a bag of dog food.

Awesome.

Then comes night. Trying my best to ignore the semi-burn I got from the shower as I drive to bible study, I get a phone call from what seems to be an international number.

“Hello?”

“… hello? Is this **?”

“Yes?”

“… hello?”

“… yes I am..”

“Are you Chinese?”

“No?” (Only later do I realize she asked if I spoke Chinese, which I somewhat do. This single answer could have saved me a very perplexing conversation, which basically consisted of the first 5 lines over and over again until she hung up on me with a broken apology.)

As I sit in my car staring at my painfully bright phone screen, I feel a sort of hollowness inside draining away at my energy. I’m not angry, annoyed, or even frustrated. I laugh an empty laugh at the situation, and want nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep away the next 12 hours.

gg, Those Days, gg.

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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