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Christmas is Cancelled.
Dec. 1st, 2012 09:01 amTrying to keep yourself occupied in your cold, darkened cubicle for over 8 hours a day is no easy task. Friday, I spent the first hour cursing life and shivering after being saturated with driving rain having parked in BFE because some stupid bitch in a VW Beetle continuously shouts at me when I park anywhere near my building that these spaces are dedicated to her building.
The next 4 hours were spent listening to trance on my iPizzle and clicking Wikipedia article after Wikipedia article until I somehow ended up on The Snowman’s page, which reminded me I needed to make my boyfriend illegally download it and somehow make it play on the living room television, because I haven’t seen it in 26 years and I recall it being the only enjoyable aspect of my childhood.
I made a mental and heart-shaped Post-It note to do so, and moved on to Googling the Walking in the Air song on video so that I could listen to it for the proceeding 3 and a half hours. All that turned up was 3 choirboys performing a rendition of it for a BBC production. Hm, I thought, mouse hovering over the video, do I really want to have to explain to management why they were informed by Information Technology that I was watching videos of choirboys? I shrugged and clicked play. At least a “Why are you looking at choirboys” convo would fill another hour or so at a later date.
“WE’RE WALKING IN THE AIIIIIR!” a 10 year old boy sang angelically into my headphones, “WE’RE FLOATING IN THE MOONLIT SKYYYYY!” I closed my eyes and smiled as the song drowned out the sounds of my coworker that whispers all day, probably about me. Suddenly my phone rang and I was jerked from my alternate reality. I pulled the headphones from my ears and picked up the phone.
“Procurement, this is Colleen?”
“HONNNNNK. This is your captain speaking. You’ve just won a cruise!”
“God damn it!” I exclaimed, slamming the phone down and cringing as the sound of the honk reverberated around in my head. I raised my arms to rub my ears and ripped the headphones from the speakers.
“I’M HOLDING VERY TIIIIIGHT!” the choirboys filled the room.
“God damn it,” I said again as Whispering Bitch and Guy that Reads Harry Potter All Day gathered at my cube.
“What’s wrong with you?” Whispering Bitch shouted over the choirboys.
“Nothing,” I yelled, knocking a dashboard hula girl I keep under my monitor over as I scrambled to turn down the speakers, “Nothing.”
As they stood outside my cubicle and watched the choirboys on my screen, I realized sadly that The Snowman had been ruined. There is now nothing good about my childhood.
The next 4 hours were spent listening to trance on my iPizzle and clicking Wikipedia article after Wikipedia article until I somehow ended up on The Snowman’s page, which reminded me I needed to make my boyfriend illegally download it and somehow make it play on the living room television, because I haven’t seen it in 26 years and I recall it being the only enjoyable aspect of my childhood.
I made a mental and heart-shaped Post-It note to do so, and moved on to Googling the Walking in the Air song on video so that I could listen to it for the proceeding 3 and a half hours. All that turned up was 3 choirboys performing a rendition of it for a BBC production. Hm, I thought, mouse hovering over the video, do I really want to have to explain to management why they were informed by Information Technology that I was watching videos of choirboys? I shrugged and clicked play. At least a “Why are you looking at choirboys” convo would fill another hour or so at a later date.
“WE’RE WALKING IN THE AIIIIIR!” a 10 year old boy sang angelically into my headphones, “WE’RE FLOATING IN THE MOONLIT SKYYYYY!” I closed my eyes and smiled as the song drowned out the sounds of my coworker that whispers all day, probably about me. Suddenly my phone rang and I was jerked from my alternate reality. I pulled the headphones from my ears and picked up the phone.
“Procurement, this is Colleen?”
“HONNNNNK. This is your captain speaking. You’ve just won a cruise!”
“God damn it!” I exclaimed, slamming the phone down and cringing as the sound of the honk reverberated around in my head. I raised my arms to rub my ears and ripped the headphones from the speakers.
“I’M HOLDING VERY TIIIIIGHT!” the choirboys filled the room.
“God damn it,” I said again as Whispering Bitch and Guy that Reads Harry Potter All Day gathered at my cube.
“What’s wrong with you?” Whispering Bitch shouted over the choirboys.
“Nothing,” I yelled, knocking a dashboard hula girl I keep under my monitor over as I scrambled to turn down the speakers, “Nothing.”
As they stood outside my cubicle and watched the choirboys on my screen, I realized sadly that The Snowman had been ruined. There is now nothing good about my childhood.
