How to Get Through Your Work Week (Office Edition)

The working world isn’t nearly as fun as I had expected. When I was in college, I imagined shiny places where work is fun, you get paid a lot, and you get to go home before the sun sets. Granted, it’s winter, so the sun-setting part is likely to change soonish, but for the most part, none of those magical things are true.

In fact, as a filing clerk organizing papers, I liken my job to untangling really tight, messy rope knots all day—complete with rope splinters. Some of them are pretty easy to straighten out. But then others are like mazes of splintery, prickly rope determined to stay exactly as they are, taunting my attempts at organization and jamming their splintery shank-like splinters into my hands.

So how do I get through my work week? Besides maintaining a standard, high caffeine-to-blood ratio, I try to make things a little more interesting. So here are my suggestions to you, oh hypothetical reader who is clearly eagerly reading my blog for exactly this purpose, on making things more amusing at the office.

Step 1: Imagine everyone as muppets.

Angry phone calls with difficult people couldn’t be any funnier! That biznatch down the hall who’s giving you drama for no apparent reason? She and her posse that terrorize the water cooler aren’t so threatening now, are they?  

Step 2: Pretend to be a spy.

Rather than give straight answers to people, be elusive! Also, avoid detection by your coworkers by sneaking up on them as quietly as possible when entering their cubicles. Then, leave cryptic messages on sticky notes for them, indicating dead drops and classified information en route to “Brown Squirrel.” This is even better if you dress the part. NO ONE WILL KNOW what you are doing if you’re walking around the office in a trench coat with a popped collar and dark sunglasses shielding your shifty eyes.

Step 3: Celebrate EVERYTHING.

Every time someone walks up to the printer to collect their documents, shout “Huzzah!” to celebrate their latest accomplishment. Keep loose confetti in your pocket to throw in the air. If you’re too cheap to buy real confetti (aka me), improvise with hole punch remains! Or hole punchers. Either way, you’re sure to change the mood around the office.

Step 4: Musical!

Bust out into song and catalyze a totally random yet perfectly choreographed dance routine involving the entire office. This is very difficult to do (although perfect if you work with Oopma Loompas), but if you can pull it off, is sure to break the monotony. I recommend “Love is a Battlefield.” Have you seen the music video? Lots of angry shimmying. Per. Fect.  

Step 5: Dance-Off

When you have to go somewhere, don’t just walk. DANCE-OFF down the hall. You don’t even need a real partner—just visualize your opponent. However, if possible, get others to dance-off with you. There’s no need for music—or talking, for that matter. In fact, keep a totally straight, concentrated look on your face as you krump down the hallway past your hypothetical and/or real opponent in perfect silence.

*Note: This is for those of you too lazy to attempt Step 4. Or for those who work mostly with robots. Because everyone knows they can’t dance. Except for when they do The Robot. But other than that, their obvious unfeeling and over-rational nature doesn’t allow for emotional expression. Except for Henry from my first post. He obviously can feel. And unfeel, depending on how much he’s had from that green bottle.

Step 6: Assume a movie character persona.

This is especially perfect for jobs that require you to answer the phone. Imagine being at home, and you’re thinking you’re calling someone you don’t want to call but really have to, like the Poison Control Center. You start off dreading the call, but then it turns out you’re talking to Mickey Mouse! Suddenly, the dishwasher fluid you just ingested doesn’t make your insides burn so much. See? Instant day turn-around. Be that worker—even if you’re not getting paid enough for the effort. But whatever you do, just remember to STAY IN CHARACTER for the whole day. This is crucial for your concentration that would otherwise go toward the work you’re actually being paid to do. I recommend: Yoda, Don Vito Corleone, and Tia Dalma. Don’t know who Tia Dalma is? IMDB her.

Or, if none of these work out, you can always trick yourself into thinking that your job is the most exciting/enjoyable thing you’ve ever done. This probably requires at least a small degree of insanity.

 

Omg, guess what!!

I effectively (although probably temporarily) expelled the dementors from the File Room!! I meant to post an update like this on Friday because that's when it actually happened, but I got too busy/tired/lazy to do so. At any rate, by the end of Friday, they were GONE. And guess what shape my Patronus Charm was!! I'll give you a hint. It wasn't a five-legged platypus. It also wasn't a saber-toothed tiger. (Technically I just gave two hints.) I'm sure you can't guess it, because it's way off from both of those. I'll give you another hint. Or I'll just tell you.

It was Michael Jackson!!

I know, right?? Who knew that he could even BE a Patronus?? Technically they're supposed to be animals.. But then again, I'm still not 100% sure I know exactly what Michael Jackson was. (Does anyone really know?) At any rate, I'm really glad because he's currently keeping the dementors at bay at work. Hopefully on Monday Captain Eo will still be able to work his magic. I mean, hey, it worked that one time he danced/sang the creepy out of that one robot queen lady, right??

I’m pretty sure there are dementors lurking somewhere in the File Room.

There’s just no other way to explain why my job has been so stultifying lately, to the degree that I’m exhausted at the end of the day, and for no apparent reason—other than the fact that I literally get paid to sort paper. But I like the dementor excuse. This way I can make myself feel better for the fact that, after two posts, I’m afraid that I’m running out of creativity already. In my head, I imagined putting up about a gazillion posts a week, being totally hilarious, and getting about five million followers in about two days. But so far that hasn’t been at all the case. This is actually kind of harder than expected! (That’s what she said. Also, The Office has ruined me. I can no longer look at any sentence like that and not think of it as an innuendo.)

It’s like, the minute I decided to start this thing, my creative juices decided to spontaneously and collectively drain entirely from my head. If you’re reading this and thinking, “wtf was she thinking, and where are all the funny posts that are supposed to be on this blog?” I promise you that I’m working on it. I have some early ideas that may or may not turn out to be funny. They just need to be cultivated. And maybe injected with funny. And maybe magic.

But back to the dementors, I’m thinking they’re probably in the top shelves of the File Room, avoiding detection, draining precious soul whenever I walk by. I should bring chocolate to work. That always seemed to help Harry. That and a Patronus Charm. Mine would probably end up in the shape of a five-legged platypus. I had better pick up a wand on the way to work today. And then master the charm in the twenty-to-thirty-minute commute. Because that’s the epitome of responsible driving. Texting and driving? Eff that—way too dangerous. Practicing fighting off dementors while you drive? Piece of cake.

I'm in First Place

Being the youngest child growing up, I had the constant desire to outcompete my older siblings. This tendency started very early with the game called “I’m in First Place.” It was simple; all you had to do was do something and yell out “I’m in first place!!” and claim your victory. The victorious activity could be anything from drawing to eating to running into a new room. Our favorite version, however, involved running into a new room and sitting down on a random piece of furniture, and calling it “First Place.”

Unfortunately, being the runt meant being the slowest at just about anything for a substantial portion of my life.

 
 
 
 
So after consistently landing myself in “Third Place,” I grew desperate. I didn't have the sheer speed necessary, but I needed a win! I decided to resort to covert measures to take my share of “I’m in First Place” victories by catching everyone else off guard instead.

 
 
 
Over time, the couch became my predictable “First Place” choice, so my brothers would deliberately run there, thus attempting to eliminate any advantage I may have. So I would pick the piano bench instead.

Or the cat.

Then I eventually picked the green chair. The green chair was a seafoam green velour chair that for some reason rocked like a rocking chair—but in any particular direction. It had never been an issue, given my small size relative to the furniture.

One time, we were coming home from school. Being that I was within a strategically advantageous proximity to the door handle, I took my chance. As soon as my mom unlocked it I burst through the threshold.

But my overly eager little body was too much for the green chair to handle at the insane speed I had taken in my excitement. The result? My first lesson in physics: the definition of momentum. 

Immediately, my mom and brothers ran over to the chair to see if my enthusiasm had finally gotten the best of me in my own game.

They were so wrong.

And that is when I became the ultimate champion of “I’m in First Place.”

In my opinion, anyway. 

Soooooo Here's the Thing...

I just graduated from college last June, and I’m currently working full time. In a file room. Insulated with hundreds of files. While I’m incredibly grateful for the fact that I have a paying job (albeit temping), I have to say that working in the “real world” isn’t as much fun as I thought it’d be. In fact, some days I feel like it’s eating my soul as I die a death of a million papercuts as dramatically as the the time Mola Ram tried tearing Indiana Jones' heart out of his chest at the end of The Temple of Doom.

Now don't get me wrong; in college, I worked hard—especially when I became serious about my classes. I was the nerd who went to all of my classes, sat in the front row, went to professors’ office hours, spent hours upon hours reading and writing papers on history and sociology--and enjoyed it.

But there was also a lot of freedom in college—even though that freedom had little to no money to do fun things.

Now, on the other hand, I’m still poor, but am paying student loans with the teensy pay I get. So, still no fun. While I plan on going to law school this next fall—hence, more money in future jobs!!.. Hopefully. The future of the legal field is another story—this kiiiiiiind of feels like a lose-lose scenario at the moment.

So, rather than wallow and turn to excessive lonely drinking and peanut butter consumption while listening to Josh Groban, I decided to retreat to my inner universe of Harry Potter, chicken casseroles, gremlins, and George Washington. In short, I’m starting a crazy person blog.  

You’re welcome!

You see, I’ve recently noticed something about myself. I’m very strange. Either this is a recent development (possible) or I’ve just been terribly oblivious to it (more possible) and am just now opening myself to the probability that life is better when you just let the crazy in and do its work (even more possible).

Also I’ve always liked writing; and now that I’ve graduated, I really miss it.

Also also, continuing to write (even if it means documenting the insane ramblings of a 22-year-old) will prooobably help me keep up the ability to put sentences together, which will arguably be helpful for going to back to school to become a fancy-pants lawyer.

So yay! On with the blogging!!

Did I mention I like to draw too?? Meet Henry. He likes to party.

Again, you’re welcome.