another bullshit day in suck city

Work yesterday, with the exception of a lovely lunch out with K, was utterly fucking miserable. Do you ever feel like everyone else on the planet exists just to piss you off? This was one of those days for me. We were understaffed, the phones were insane, one of my coworkers was really getting on my tits, I had to learn a new system for ordering records that was about as user-friendly as a thistle-covered dildo, and---worst of all---I was subjected to an absurd Dilbertian experiment.

Around 10AM, my boss walked around to everyone's cubicles and dropped off a hardback book with a piece of paper stuck inside. Preferring not to clutter up my home with work-related items, I left them in my cube, so I can't remember the title or the exact wording of the memo. Basically the book was some stupid happy crappy shit about finding your strengths, and the memo was telling us we had to go on the author's website, using a code cleverly hidden inside the book jacket, and fill out a questionnaire that would tell us our strengths in the workplace. The due date wasn't until November 26th, but since I'll be gone on that day, I had to do it immediately.

This in spite of a workload that could choke a horse.

So I went on the stupid website, where I had to read two statements and pick the one that I felt best described me or my personal viewpoint. Example: "I do tasks in the order that they were assigned to me/I prioritize my work." When I was finished, I was directed to click on a link that took me to a detailed analysis of my strengths.

I really hope you're sitting down for this. You may want to put a helmet on, too, because this shit will BLOW YOUR MIND.

I'm creative, empathetic, and prefer to work alone.

NO WAY!

Upon learning this astounding information, which anyone who's known me for more than five minutes could have deduced, I looked at the inside flap of the book to see how much this Rosetta Stone of the Cube Farm cost.

Thirty bucks.

Thirty...fucking...dollars.

There are about 25 people in my department.

25 x $30 = $750.

(And yes, they probably got some sort of corporate and/or bulk discount, but let's just go with that amount.)

They could easily have saved themselves some serious fundage, because for only half that amount, I would have been more than happy to go around the department and tell my coworkers things that they already know about themselves. "You're too loud! You're awesome! You're a fucking bitch! You're a twinkletwat! You're a shameless malingerer who would have been fired years ago if the Cube Farm wasn't so afraid of lawsuits!"

Then I would have taken the money and bought candy and magazines.

Was the fun over? By god, it was not! I had to e-mail my boss and tell her what my strengths were, according to this unbelievably scientific analysis. She wrote back and asked me what I thought of the program. Biting back the truth, since I enjoy eating and having a roof over my head, I said that I thought it was interesting but that some of the questions might raise privacy concerns.

Dumb, dumb, DUMB.

She wrote back asking what I meant, and I said, "Some people might worry that their names are being matched to their answers and not answer truthfully. For example, one of the questions asked you to choose between 'I think lying is always wrong/I think bending the truth is sometimes justifiable', and another said 'Stealing should always be punished/Stealing is sometimes okay'. If people think their answers aren't confidential, they will answer in a way that is 'acceptable', and it seems to me that this will skew the data."

In for a penny, in for a pound, right? I mean, come on, those are gray goddamn areas. Of course I believe that bending the truth is sometimes justifiable; what, if someone asks what you think of their new dress, and it's uglier than homemade soup, you're supposed to hurt their feelings? And if you're starving to death and pull a Jean Valjean, well, maybe you should have looked into a food bank or something, but still, I can see that as justifiable. But no, I answered the way I thought my company would want me to answer, because I'm one of those paranoid "people".

Anyway, she thanked me for my input, and that was the last I heard from her. Fun times!

When 6PM rolled around, I was so goddamn thrilled that I literally danced out of the building. I drove home, changed into my pajamas, took a shamefully long nap, and spent the rest of my evening watching CSI and drinking Aztec hot chocolate.

Vacation never seemed so sweet.