The Smarty-Pants

Everyone in our office (and presumably the university as a whole) received an 8-page teaser pamphlet entitled, "How to Deal with Unacceptable Employee Behavior". It's a teaser in the sense that it doesn't actually tell you how to deal with several of the "characters", but it does encourage you to sign up for the 1 day seminar that will give you "100% satisfaction" (which, if true to the advertisement, would involve a reach-around). In the way that these sort of brochures are corny, there are corny phrases ("learn the management magic that can turn around the messiest situations!"), corny pictures (trust me), and corny veiled promises ("it will greatly increase the chances of your success"!). This probably isn't the time for criticism, but doesn't getting off one's ass in general greatly increase the chance of one's success? Right. Anyway.

One of my coworkers (with whom I share the snarkiest of bonds) came in with page 3 folded back. She said excitedly, "Which one are you going to be? I'm going to be The Downer!." I hadn't given the pamphlet much thought, but now that she mentioned it, I felt it necessary to choose my very own character. The Excuse Artist was pretty good, but so was The Clod, The Minimalist and The Itch. The list sounded more to me like a half-assed troupe of comic book villains than workplace identities, but again this probably wasn't the time for criticism.

I envisioned myself in meetings as my new workplace persona. Should I be the Soap Star, who "distracts sympathetic coworkers and draws them into their never-ending predicaments and problems"? I could throw myself upon my co-worker's desks, bemoaning the current project our Director is positively forcing me to do. I was certainly qualified to be The Gossip, who "wages verbal warfare" behind closed doors. I envisioned my trumped-up narratives about how I heard from some guy who knows this lady that so-and-so is trying to get a divorce from their first cousin they totally married in Alabama. (Side note: In this case, the seminar promises to teach you to "muzzle the Gossips". HOT.)

And there it was: The Smarty-Pants. This person openly and forcefully challenges management authority. They also engage in an "undercurrent of anti-management" chatter. Still unsure whether I could pull off The Smarty Pants, I quickly checked my ham radio, blazing forth with anti-management chatter. Excellent! I would become The Smarty-Pants. I grabbed some papers and walked openly and forcefully into my Director's office.

"This assignment you gave is pretty lame", I said far too loudly, "Why would you give me something that's just a complete waste of anyones time??"

"I beg your pardon?", she said with an unusual air of petulance.

"I said", I repeated confidently (though I must admit, I was a bit worried my little joke wasn't being taken well), "this is a waste of time".

"Shut the door", my boss ordered. She sneered, "Now listen up. I've put up with all the garbage from you that I can take. Here's the deal. Either you do what I say or I'll tell the staff just how willing you are to do the work they don't want to do. Before you know it, you'll have piles of tedious work sitting on your desk. I'll tell them that you don't have enough to do. I'll tell them to take responsibilities from their student workers and give them to you".

My face completely gave me away, as I was unprepared for this reaction. I thought my boss had a great sense of humor. I thought she would get my over-the-top complaint. Sensing my discomfort, my boss' face relaxed. She started laughing hysterically, "Oh Patrick, I'm so sorry! You couldn't tell? I'm The Intimidator!"

Bitch and Moan

I've been sick for over a week now. I thought I was getting better this weekend, but then I had to go and get all drinky on Saturday night. Lesson learned. I'm at 85%, so I decided to come to work because I really need to get some stuff done. Stuff like blogging.

Since I'm probably the only one to say this in the history of ever, I'll say it. I hate being sick. I hate waking up being sick. I hate being stuck in my house for more than two days, even with the huge screen, internet, XBOX360, HD DVD player and tons of cable. I get real stir crazy. So stir crazy, in fact, that yesterday I took a short walk to Albertson's (a store that I hate) just so I could buy Spaghetti-O's. Don't judge.

Here's something I decided while being forced to stay at home and sleep and watch TV (waaaa!!):

I used to love the Price is Right. One of the only benefits to being sick was watching Bob Barker and his beauties dole out cheap ass popcorn makers and catamarans. Now it's Drew Carey and even Plinko has lost its luster. The only thrill I still get from the Price is Right are the Wilford Brimley commercials talking plainly and sincerely about his diabeetus.

Drew Carry is a shitty ass replacement for Bob Barker. He's not that funny, he's not charming at all, he is completely awkward with the contestants and I get the feeling like he wasn't sure what he signed up for. I don't know what the fuck, but yesterday he asked this contestant what her dog's name was twice to make small chat. It was crazy enough that she wanted to give a shout out to her dog. Then due to a pause of the wheel spinning, Drew said, "So, what was your dog's name again?", rather than think of a new question. The contestant's thought bubble said quite clearly, "You just asked me that, dumbass", but she kindly repeated the name. By the way, her dog's name was "Sprinkles" so it wasn't even worth repeating.

That's pretty much it. If I think of anything else to bitch about, I'll be sure to let the two of you know.