One of those days: potty talk and baby wipes

Have you ever had “one of those days”? You know, the kind when people call you up with requests that have to be fulfilled within an unreasonable timeframe? The kind in which said people promise said requests to others without checking with you first?

Yes, of course you have — if you coexist with human beings.

I had one of those days today. I made it into the office with little problem, a relief after sitting in traffic the last 2 days when it was in vogue for cars to rear-end each other in the exact same spot. It was smooth sailing. Then I got to work and that is when the horns, brake lights and swearing started…by me. (I don’t remember flipping off anyone, though. That was only that one time in New Jersey on Route 17. Bad merging experience. I had to reciprocate.)

I’m not to blame for my excessive use of profanity, really. I tempered it with devilish smiles and triumphant HA!’s whenever talking to my fellow support staff. Being in a support function, we all experience and understand these kinds of days, but today seemed to be a cosmic conspiracy aimed at half of our department.

For me, I realized that the world can be incredibly incompetent and inefficient on days like today and that my fellow man must assume I sit around doing nothing — just like Elaine on the episode of Seinfeld when she said (and I’m paraphrasing), “No, Jerry, I mean I literally did nothing all day… I just sat on the sofa and stared off in space.” I felt my flagrant swearing was justified after receiving 4 separate “I’m marking my voicemail URGENT! so you understand this is REALLY important to me and then I’ll call and email you and others repeatedly with the same request so everyone is doing the same thing poorly” requests. And that was only in the first 30 minutes.

Good thing, you know, because I was looking for something to do other than stare off into space all day.

As the morning rolled into lunchtime (and I and others chowed down our food at our desks), I mentioned to  someone that I was going to bring in packages of baby wipes for everyone. I figured we could line up the bozos, have them drop their pants and then we could wipe their asses for them. He was amused by my spunk, crossover use of household products in the workplace, and the “face of an angel, mouth of a truck driver” approach to the day’s disasters.

He didn’t want to be left out and made me promise to include a package of wipes for him, too.


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