Things That Are Bugging Me Today

Today didn't start as well as I wanted.

For a start, I woke up later than I was supposed to. Then I got to the gym much later than I had planned. And when I got there, the TVs were not displaying last night's repeat of the Ellen show but rather the Discovery channel. So at least I learnt some things while I attempted the stairmaster.

Fueled with endorphins, I got all excited to wear one of my new dresses to work today. I bought it cos it resembles Roland Mouret's Galaxy dress and it was too pretty not to buy it.


I have a problem with discipline, can you tell?! It was also a size too small for me but I was already swiping my card. Now in one of those never-happen-before moments, the item which I had always hoped I'd be able to fit into, I actually do! With the help of magic knickers of course. This was the redeeming factor for the bad start.

Then I got to work.

I work with a lot of techy people so for the fact for so many of them to notice the dress was amazing. I've gotten so many compliments. Someone even said I looked like I stepped out of The Devil Wears Prada. Result! But that wasn't the bad part.

The bad part is that Cartman who I cannot handle has now moved opposite me. For a year I was fine with no one sitting opposite me. I had people to my left and right and the Hot Mama and the Social Butterfly were always close by. Now I have to deal with his business all up in my business. He also insists on swearing constantly. Now I have no problem with swearing. In my job I have to otherwise, I'd never get through the day. But can't he just go and do it in the bathroom or in his head like a normal person? Every five minutes the most obscene language is splayed over from his desk to mine. My poor little desk figurines have even started to cover their ears. I've even hidden my YSL Touché Éclat cos no one says the C word in front of YSL.

The other guy bugging me is the one recovering from a cold. I would feel bad for him. But he has decided, "To hell with it! I'm not going to go to the bathroom to clear the phelm from my throat. I'll do it right here in the middle of the office. Where my co-workers can hear and then plot death against me." Jeez Louise! I'm so close to throwing my box of tissues at him.

The last thing bugging me today are my magic knickers. I love them. I owe many a great night to them. But damn, when they roll down and expose my work-in-progress tummy I have some issues. So unlike Coughy McCoughson over there I am going to the bathroom a lot.

But c'est la vie. At least I fit into my new dress. And in approximately 20 minutes i get to leave to meet a friend for a much-needed Vida hot chocolate.

Ex-Oh! Ex-Oh!

Working 9 to 5

There’s this Chris Rock comedy special where he explains the difference between people who have careers and people who have jobs. He colourfully states that people with careers make the people with jobs feel awful and should just shut the hell up about their working bliss. Unfortunately I fall into the latter category. I have a job. Not a career I wake up early for. Not a career I don’t mind working later for. And not a career I can snootily parade in front of others to make them feel bad. Btw, my dream career would be a features writer at a magazine. A little like The Devil wears Prada.

Sadly I got side-tracked in my third year of studies and opted for an easy way to feed my clothes and shoe addiction rather than trying to find something that even resembled what I remotely studied. My first real job, retail experience aside, was as a receptionist in a wellness centre. That’s a fancy term for a beauty spa. I have to admit that I was great at this job. I’m not being an arrogant bitch. It’s the truth; mostly because it’s wasn’t a hard job. I found the application of a little teeth and tits around clients worked wonders. If you can handle demanding consumers, deal with kids in the waiting area and advise on overly expensive face creams that rid the skin of acne, you would also be a receptionist supremeo. Unfortunately after too many beauty therapists bitching at each other, an unmotivating manager and seriously low wages, I left.

This was not a problem because I had another job lined up. I was actually going to be working at a magazine. My dream job. Then budget cuts struck. I was unceremoniously fired before I’d even signed a contract. In a moment of haste, I took the first job that came my way. Anything other than being a receptionist. And what did I end up being…a receptionist. Not to start off with. I’d originally just filled a position left by the Hot Mama who was on maternity leave. It was admin, it was easy and I was making a lot more. Months went by, they renewed my contract and all of a sudden I noticed a change. Their original receptionist wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. I thought she was sweet if a little special. Then with my admin and previous front of house experience, I was offered her job. And a pay increase. I shamelessly took my new position. After all, my new winter clothes were not going to pay for themselves. It’s almost been a year since that happened and now I still work in the same job doing the same thing I tried to leave all those months ago.

And now it’s really beginning to get to me. It’s not that I loathe the job or the company. It’s a great company; there are loads of perks plus I love the people I work with. There’s Hot Mama who is now preggers with her second child; the Social Butterfly who’s got a fabulous life I envy; Mr Uppity who is proud with no apologies (I love his comments about our less-than fabulous coworkers); and then there’s my boss, the Navy Seal. These are all people I’d really miss if I left. But if I don’t leave it’ll be like settling for Mickey Rourke when I could have Hugh Jackman. After all, when you’re an office administrator how much further can you go.

Those are just some of the bad things…the other thing that really makes me want to leave are some of the not-so-cool coworkers I have to deal with. I’m talking about the touchy-feely guy who stands behind me and watches what I do on my computer without any dignity. I can be doing my banking, checking out facebook or updating the company website and suddenly he’s there behind me. Having a look at my depleted savings fund or watching me tag my weekend pictures. Things are not helped by the fact that he resembles Eric Cartman. I swear if he wears a beanie in winter and zip-up top, I’ll wet myself.

Then there’s the guy dubbed Creepazoid. He is the sole reason I believe my death will occur during working hours at my place of business. He’s not a just a starer, but a super-starer. I can be on the other side of the office and I can feel his beady–eyes on me. I can be eating my breakfast at my desk and I can sense he’s watching me. I can be sharing a joke with my besties and he’s there, smiling along like he’s a part of the freakin’ group. It’s moments like these that I’m convinced he has the entire office bugged and when we think he’s listening to his Ipod, he’s merely making moves to distinguish where his next victim lives. At times I think I’m just being a bitch; that’s when I try and make an effort. Turns out I’m not a bitch, he’s just a weirdo. He’s tall, almost 30 and still dresses like a wannabe Eminem – doesn’t he know that sad, white boy rappers went out of style ages ago. He has no social skills and scares the bejesus out of me.

And I have to deal with him. Just like I have to deal with Cartman and his space issues (which he apparently doesn’t have). Just like I have to deal with answering phones, taking messages and ordering office supplies.

It’s called paying your dues. And when I’m done – is that a sunset I see in the horizon – I know I’ll be happy.

Now if only I didn’t have to bring a can of mace to work.

Ex-oh! Ex-oh!