My fabulous job

I started work today with a fly swatter in my hand. You see we have so many flies in the office, it became actually a work hasard to choke on one misfortunate flying dot while talking on the phone.

These are actually the kind of flies that get stuck into your hair, fly up your nose, bump and buzz in your ear, and they seem to lack common sense since they don´t even flinch out of the way of the swatter. So this is why, at the end of the day there usually rest - legs up - about a houndred of these disgusting little creatures, now that's when I decide it has been a productive day!

Another impressive aspect of my workplace is that it stinks like nothing I have ever smelt before. I work with waste, so you´d might guess it stinks like rotting matter, decomposing carcasses and ssuch. Well, you´re close. Have you ever seen a ´can-o-worms'? Interestingly enough, the first thing that entered my mind when I heard the name was 'cup-a-soup', and I immidiately got hungry. But my apetite disappeared within 2 meters of this round box of rotting green matter, as I had realised that it was no more no less than a feeding apparatus for hundreds of worms. And my colleagues would fill it up every day, worms would grow fatter and bigger, the waste browner and smellier, and so on and so forth. I for one, prefer to take my garbage home and dump it in a regular bin where nothing alive is yet there to feast on it!

But by far the most disgusting thing in my office is attitude, more precisely, 'someone's attitude'. Remember 'the bitch' from my previous blog? Well, this would have to be a super bitch...on her period...on the night she got dumped...no, make that haven't got laid in 6 months. That should get close to what I'm trying to describe here.

If this woman had the right to do so, she would take the faxes that I messed up in my hurry of trying to cover the work that she's NOT doing and glue them (or more likely staple them) to my eyes. Every little detail is carefully checked and underlined and brought up when and only when the boss is around. And of course, I probably wouldn't care that much if she didn't do little sleezy things like calling me 'ma belle' or offering me some candy. I'll tell you where I'd like to stick that piece of candy! What is it with this girl? Does she somehow think that with 2 words and a piece of candy she can trick me into being her office elf? I have been called Dobby before, but only as a joke. To my recollection, I never applied for that position.

All in all, when it comes to this girl, I would gladly eat up the entire can-o-worms than spend another day locked up in an office with her...