I have always wondered what "Casual Friday" actually meant, seeing as I haven't had a life coach since my mother died and I don't know what casual clothes really are. I figured it was kind of like a Halloween for office workers, where they dressed up in costumes and tried to impress their bosses with their creativity. Perhaps I was lucky that no one really noticed what I did until now, or maybe I was just that weird guy that is in every office across our fair country, and everyone talks behind their backs, and keeps them around just to laugh at them standing around the water cooler. Now today of all days I got sent home. Me, the man who has never missed a day of work for his mother dying in the hospital or for the flu that should have had me flat on my back in bed, got sent home.
Now perhaps the gangster costume was a little too much, with my pants at my knees and an over long shirt, but it at least gave me a little bit of personality for god's sake....not that there is a god (or maybe there is but I'm not one to judge). In any case, my boss showed up at my desk, for the first time in well, since I started, and demanded to know why I was dressed in, I quote, "Such a ridiculous fashion". Now I am polite to the core, and believe me when I say I took no offence to his sharp and offensive tone, and calmly replied, describing all that I knew about the mythical "Casual Friday". Apparently that didn't go over very well...because here I sit at home, after my boss demanded I leave, and not come back until Monday. Well at least I will have a weekend off for once in my life, not that I really ever had to go in on weekends at all.
Now for another question to my adoring non-existent public........
What exactly does one do on weekends? How do you have that thing you call "fun"? Is it like the casual enjoyment you get out of completing a particularly difficult task...or you should be getting out of "Casual Friday" with your obsessed co-workers? I am, in all honesty, confused and upset by this conundrum that seems to want to tear the fragile balance I have created with my own brain to keep me somewhat, I suppose the word is, sane. If anyone would like to give me the answer, then I would be in your debt... figuratively of course, seeing as the unremarkable me has nothing to give to anyone or anything.
Thursday 21 July 2011
Wednesday 13 July 2011
Work
Today's work was dull as always, and any other day would have seen me trying to tear out my hair in boredom. However, today seemed a little bit different in the way that I noticed just how normal everything is. I sit at the same desk every day, and pretty well all my co-workers ignore my very existence as a whole. I could probably stay over night and not even the cleaners would notice that there was some guy in the way of the below standard job that they are so used to doing. (I swear that the same ham and cheese sandwich, which had been one of my lunches, the same thing since elementary school, has been in my garbage can for around a month.) That goes to say that of course I have stayed overnight and no one noticed that anything was different, except for perhaps the permeating smell of BO that I had acquired from many days of being the first one to arrive in the morning, and the last to leave at night. So as you can see I really don't have any friends, because if you think anyone cared that I was never at home and was knee deep in work, believe me when I say that no cops were called for the missing person's report.
In any case, my actual job isn't that interesting. People drop stacks of paperwork in my inbox, like they are the most important things in the world and I just have to get them done immediately, I stamp them up and put them in my outbox so that they can be left there for two weeks. This stuff is *cough*bullshit*cough*. It's the same old thing every day and it never changes. Never. Never must last forever, especially in my line of lifetime enhancement courses. I have a whole stack of those CDs that promise to enhance your life and make you less socially awkward or something like that, but I guess you can tell how that worked out. I digress.
Now, I am sitting at home, with my cup of tea and lemon, no sugar because it could make me hyperactive, and no one would want that now would we, because even that I can only do in a mediocre fashion. Perhaps I get a small buzz and a bit jumpy, but I do better at the bottom of a bottle. It makes all my worries and cares go away, which is actually a blatant lie, but it's something I would like to believe in, because I don't actually believe in much, if you couldn't tell that already. There is no god, there is no higher power, and there are certainly no supernatural monsters and the like. Now perhaps I should be curling up in my white sheeted bed, with a navy blue comforter including the anchor accents, and crying my unremarkable butt to sleep, because nothing else is going to change today, or tomorrow, or perhaps maybe even the next day, but I think there is a better use of my time putting my head down and getting everyone else's paperwork finished for them. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to that.
In any case, my actual job isn't that interesting. People drop stacks of paperwork in my inbox, like they are the most important things in the world and I just have to get them done immediately, I stamp them up and put them in my outbox so that they can be left there for two weeks. This stuff is *cough*bullshit*cough*. It's the same old thing every day and it never changes. Never. Never must last forever, especially in my line of lifetime enhancement courses. I have a whole stack of those CDs that promise to enhance your life and make you less socially awkward or something like that, but I guess you can tell how that worked out. I digress.
Now, I am sitting at home, with my cup of tea and lemon, no sugar because it could make me hyperactive, and no one would want that now would we, because even that I can only do in a mediocre fashion. Perhaps I get a small buzz and a bit jumpy, but I do better at the bottom of a bottle. It makes all my worries and cares go away, which is actually a blatant lie, but it's something I would like to believe in, because I don't actually believe in much, if you couldn't tell that already. There is no god, there is no higher power, and there are certainly no supernatural monsters and the like. Now perhaps I should be curling up in my white sheeted bed, with a navy blue comforter including the anchor accents, and crying my unremarkable butt to sleep, because nothing else is going to change today, or tomorrow, or perhaps maybe even the next day, but I think there is a better use of my time putting my head down and getting everyone else's paperwork finished for them. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to that.
This is me
Well I think the title of this post and of my entire blog says it all. I am Joseph Michael Russell, but if you call me that I may just have to break your legs, so just call me Russell, not Russ, or Joe, or anything else for that matter. I am your totally normal kind of guy, with a house and a car that blend in with every other house and car on my street, and I've been working and living in the same place since I graduated college last year. I grew up in a broken family with only my mother, and no other relatives, which is the only odd thing about me I guess you could say, and as for my dad....well we don't really talk about the dead beat. Probably went off and, oh I don't know, traded up for a better looking wife and better behaved kid, and left the test run behind. In any case, everything about me is unremarkable, nothing is special at all....not one thing makes me different from that guy you pass on the street and think, "that stiff/loser/waste of space never has any fun at all". In fact, I am that stiff/loser/waste of space because I never do have fun, I never go out, and I certainly don't have any friends.
"So why start a blog?" you may be asking, because someone like me doesn't seem to have a very interesting life to tell you all about, or even something relevant to say to the world at large, but, you see, I feel I am such a perfect specimen of mediocrity, that perhaps the world should know about someone like me and what I do in my overly normal day to day life. In any case, I am totally unremarkable, perfectly normal, and I highly doubt that anything amazing will ever happen in my lifetime. Call me a pessimist if you'd like, but I prefer to be called a realist.
"So why start a blog?" you may be asking, because someone like me doesn't seem to have a very interesting life to tell you all about, or even something relevant to say to the world at large, but, you see, I feel I am such a perfect specimen of mediocrity, that perhaps the world should know about someone like me and what I do in my overly normal day to day life. In any case, I am totally unremarkable, perfectly normal, and I highly doubt that anything amazing will ever happen in my lifetime. Call me a pessimist if you'd like, but I prefer to be called a realist.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)