As I went down for the third time, the cruel ocean of paperwork dragging me under and simultaneously heaping itself on top of me, I pondered my terrible fate. It is strange, the placid feeling of acceptance that suffuses you when you are being greedily swallowed by a tide of self-propagating demands, your feet and hands hopelessly tangled in a M�bius Strip of self-opposing restrictions. Far less strange is the immediately ensuing desire to torch the office, kick someone in the pelvis, and run away laughing.
But again, this isn�t supposed to be about my job. At least, not totally. I mean, this entry is a little bit about my job, if you consider the burgeoning homicidal impulses of my co-workers to be "about my job".
See, I�m starting to worry that Elaine -- whom I formerly liked, although she was always a bit�eccentric -- might currently be riding the express train to Crazyville. I�m not going to go into all of the long and boring details, but suffice it to say that for the past three weeks or so, she�s been acting really surly and hateful-muttering-under-the-breath-y (which, I should point out, is never very encouraging to co-workers). Then she "took a couple days off", and when she came back, she was�well, she�s got this look in her eye now like she and her .22 might have a date at the local Burger King any day now.
Actually, if what I�m afraid is going to go down actually goes down, Burger King might not be a bad place to hang out. Not that Elaine�s said anything specific to me about wanting to kill us all, but I�ve started to notice this suspicious narrowing of her eyes when she looks around the office, sort of the way you used to look at your TV screen when playing a particularly intense game of Duck Hunt. She�s also got this nervous chuckle, which used to be all, "Ho ho, I don�t know how to respond to that, so I�ll just laugh and shake my head," but has, in the last two days, taken on a mirthless quality that resounds a little more of, "Ho ho, pretty soon you whores will all be swimming in your own blood."
Again, not encouraging.
And there are specific instances, too, that have my psycho proximity alarm thrumming nicely when in her presence. Like when I made a little joke about how Super Bowl parties are about chips and beer, rather than complicated snacks, and she bristled and barked out, "No, you�re wrong. Wrong!" Uh�sorry, Elaine�didn�t realize that was one of your causes. Or the time when I asked how she was doing --- just to be polite, mind --- and she chuckled bitterly, shook her head in disbelief, muttered something under her breath, and then snapped, "I�m here to work today, not socialize." Uh�whoopsy?
So me and Sam have started putting together an early warning system for when Elaine comes busting back into the office like Michael Douglas in Falling Down, and have discussed where exactly we should hide if we can�t make it to the door before she starts cutting a bloody swath up the front stairs.
On the lighter side, it really puts things in perspective, you know? I�m far less concerned about closing The Loop now.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: "How to put on eyeliner" And: naked dinner parties I�m Watching: The funniest episode of CSI ever. I Wish I Was Having: A naked dinner party.