Noon on Wednesday? Sure, We Can Start Drinking!
With ambivalence, I have to report that the situation at my workplace continues to deteriorate. Our office has turned into a daycare, as everyone with a daughter brings them in and we have arts and crafts strewn all over our breakroom and bullpen. Yesterday, they closed down our breakroom as they turned it into a makeshift screening room for Cinderella 3. The only way we can get these kids out of the office so we don’t have to hear them screaming, is to convince them to open a little stand on the first floor selling water balloons.
I was by the vending machine earlier today when my coworker brought what looked like a tallboy wrapped tightly in a plastic bag and discreetly slipped it into the back of our fridge. I looked over and he said, “Just hiding my beer.” I said, “Are you serious?” He said, “Dead serious.” I told him I was gonna open it and he said, “Just don’t drink it.” I know he’s joked before that he drinks 2 beers throughout the workday, but I never thought he was serious. Indeed, by mid-afternoon, I noticed the beer was gone.
I still have the little baggie of Xanax he gave me. He said it’s the only way to get through the workday and put up with our boss. I haven’t touched it, but sometimes I wonder…at what point does this place completely lose touch with reality?
Just days ago, I thought it was kind of funny. Now the state of my workplace is kind of freaking me out.
I think tomorrow I’m going to close my office door, and strip down to only my bra and underwear, then work that way until someone finds me. This office desperately needs a cry for help, and I am willing to be the one who makes that sacrafice.