Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Back on the chain gang

I recently finished my leave and went back to work.

It bites. I don't mean that my workplace bites. Far from it. Lots of clever people doing good work to assist others. Nice building, nice colleagues - good access to amenities etc.

But on the whole I'd rather be in Philadelphia ... or more correctly, on holidays still.

Much of this angst is my own fault. I didn't recondition my sleeping patterns to fit the work cycle. As such my natural inclination to stay up until 3 is still there. So I am staying awake, whether I like it or not, until then, then dragging myself into the shower at 730 in order to try and wake the fuck up for work.

It's been horrid. Absolutely horrid. Sitting on my work chair utterly munged.

I went back on a Tuesday. I try and do this so as to have a short week and not punish my body with a five day work hit. That, and I would miss the incredibly detailed 'what happened at the meeting for the big wigs of the org' Monday effort, that can (and often does) go for an hour. It's stuff I need to know. It's just that I don't like meetings.

Wasn't that nice. They held the meeting over just for me :( ... and it went for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Anyway, a recent morning was a shocker. The worst morning thus far since work return happened. I was awake until 3 (not having been sleepy enough to sleep) when theNoo decided to scream the house down at 6am. So I got up and commenced the wrangle. With severe gut pain, and three hours sleep (if that) I told work I'd be in later and went back to bed. I woke mid morning, eventually dragged myself to the shower after enduring 15 minutes of twilight* consciousness between alarm and actually rising, and heavy with fatigue, dressed and headed for the door.

I had no time for breakfast, so I grabbed something from the fridge.

Blame fatigue. Blame a fugged brain. Blame perhaps a screaming lack of dairy, but the thing I grabbed was the last of the block of cheese, a lump the size of half a fist. I chucked it on the dusty passenger seat, and let it bounce around the stained cushion channels until I got to a reasonably straight bit of road that would afford me the opportunity to eat that bad boy like it was a fucking apple.

And I did - all of it. A lump so lumpy that I could see where my teeth met in the middle of it. I barely noticed the seat crud it had picked up.

I told a colleague what I did. Her e-response was simply 'Ewwwwwwwwwww'.

Also, when I was making the walk from the car to the office, I approached a semi-attractive sunnies clad woman heading the other way. I tend to look at my feet, or about 10' feet ahead of me, when I walk. I always have - darting my head up now and then like a groundhog scoping the sky for an eagle - before lowering again. I did this as I walked towards her.

Perhaps she though my upward gaze then downward return was a looking up and down pervy glance. I understand that. I look like the sort of person that would wear a British rain repelling garment then hang around in seedy bookshops. If I was a woman I'd consider me somewhat distasteful. I mean, why change the fucking habit of the rest of your gender?

So as I closed the gap she nudged her sunnies back up ... with her middle finger. Not the more dextrous and 99% of the time selected index. The stick it up you finger! The 'no chance' salute! The fuck you finger!

I couldn't help it. As we passed each other, I muttered, Jar Jar Binks style, 'How Rude!'

Semi-attractive people; you're not always being perved at. And besides, fuck you even if you are so viewed. Evolution meets culture has dictated who are the alphas and who are not. If you're a fucking alpha, people are going to look at you that way. By and large lookers will be polite about it - and not assume the 70's Builder crotch grab + how 'bout darlin' holler - but give you a brief glance over. And if they look, just be glad they did, even if they do look like their professional career consists of catering the eccentric whims of their insane scientist masters. Don't flip them off via a fairly unsubtle hardly covert glasses push back.

Jesus Christ, you people have tickets on yourself.

In my all time favourite movie, The Tall Guy, one of the characters - Mr Morrow, a blind man - declares that being blind has its advantages - as every woman he meets thereafter has "looked" like Mae West.

So if that Meteor Shower that sends everyone blind at the start of The Triffids thing happens, then so called Alpha types, then you will have to rely on your personality** like the rest of humanity.

Ha! Suck shit.

* Massive apologies to Twilight fans drawn here via your search engine + other keywords. Let me say however all thumbs up to the author for being the writer of the next Harry Potter, except - like Dan Brown novels - I regard the works with a scathing sneeringness and consider their violation of Vampire Lore - to whit Vampires now apparently sparkle in the fucking sun instead of becoming living torches and dusting away - as a greater crime than Highlander II.

** Not so great there as well. Fringe dweller in school, fringe dweller in life. Hey, someone has to be on the fringe. Otherwise we'd have no clear delineation. I want that noted higher-powers-that-may-or-may-not-exist that I took one for the team, and I want to come back as Fabio's superfluous nipple or something.

4 comments:

  1. Um... I nudge my sunnies up with my middle finger out of habit... and I'm certainly not under any illusion that I'm being perved on these days!

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  2. lol, so you ate a block of cheese then got pissed off when someone fixed their sunglasses!? Chalk this one to lack of sleep dude, not everyone's out to get you!

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  3. I think I have unresolved esteem issues...

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  4. By the way Sarah, you could totally make it in a niche site in your condish... you look great!

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