Compliments
I've just been deluged at work. I mean an actual cataclysmicly enormous waterfall of work has just been gushing towards me. Its like everyone has decided, oh, here's someone who takes care of everything, let's not stand between her and the stated everything. And on top of all that, I'm being sought out for personal advice, too! I'm surprised people aren't bring their kids to work to sit and learn from me instead of sending them to school. Its gotten ridiculous. Probably the worst part is knowing the Ewing effect--which will shortly be changed to the Erin effect--is in full effect. Everyone is so in awe of my abilities and achievements that instead of being inspired to work hard they are just languishing about excited to see me do my thing. It has got to stop. At this rate I see a ridiculously inflated title in my future: grand poobah and genius of all things. Of course, I'm just joking.
I actually know a guy who's position title is genius, and its not some kind of marketing scam like he works at the damn Apple store. He chose his position title and its genius. What a jackass. That's right, I called that guy a jackass. What is he going to do about it? Nothing, that's what. I don't care if he actually is a very nice guy. If you pick your title, and you pick genius, and what you actually do is sit very oddly at your computer--I mean with one leg under you, and a knee by your face while you sit hunched over--and type furiously, then what you are is a dork, and that should be your title even if you are proud of the code you write. So, compliments to you for being a dork. You can be proud of that too.
I'm sorry. Is my frustration showing through? In addition to all this work, I had to spend an hour telling some angry woman that I didn't know who her husband was or why my number showed up on his cell phone caller ID. It was just a matter of principle. I thought my phone plan had this section of the population blocked from calling me. Apparently not. I think its time to switch providers. See, what happened was, she thought he was having an affair, and thinks that because my number showed up in his caller ID, it must be with me. Well, I don't know how my number showed up.
Look even as I'm typing this, some VP of something or other is calling me. I think I'm just going to have some man throw my phone off a cliff. Well, honestly, I don't want to have to figure out where a cliff is, and then drive all the way out to it. That sounds like something for a man to do. What makes anyone think its alright to talk to me at this time?
I think I'm going to have a spa delivered to my office tomorrow and then relax in it all day. And what are they going to do about it? Nothing, that's what. Compliments to me for a brilliant idea.
I actually know a guy who's position title is genius, and its not some kind of marketing scam like he works at the damn Apple store. He chose his position title and its genius. What a jackass. That's right, I called that guy a jackass. What is he going to do about it? Nothing, that's what. I don't care if he actually is a very nice guy. If you pick your title, and you pick genius, and what you actually do is sit very oddly at your computer--I mean with one leg under you, and a knee by your face while you sit hunched over--and type furiously, then what you are is a dork, and that should be your title even if you are proud of the code you write. So, compliments to you for being a dork. You can be proud of that too.
I'm sorry. Is my frustration showing through? In addition to all this work, I had to spend an hour telling some angry woman that I didn't know who her husband was or why my number showed up on his cell phone caller ID. It was just a matter of principle. I thought my phone plan had this section of the population blocked from calling me. Apparently not. I think its time to switch providers. See, what happened was, she thought he was having an affair, and thinks that because my number showed up in his caller ID, it must be with me. Well, I don't know how my number showed up.
Look even as I'm typing this, some VP of something or other is calling me. I think I'm just going to have some man throw my phone off a cliff. Well, honestly, I don't want to have to figure out where a cliff is, and then drive all the way out to it. That sounds like something for a man to do. What makes anyone think its alright to talk to me at this time?
I think I'm going to have a spa delivered to my office tomorrow and then relax in it all day. And what are they going to do about it? Nothing, that's what. Compliments to me for a brilliant idea.
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