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I'm Takin' What They're Givin' Cause I'm Workin' For a Livin'

Posted by Angelle, 07 February 2012 · 125 views

I. Have. A....(drum roll)

JOOOOOOOOOB.

That's a "job" not a joob. I don't even know what a joob is. It sounds racist.

Anyway, yes I have a job. I have a cubicle, too. A spacious one where it's really quiet. My coworker is sweet as anything, but I guess, as a result of the fortress of solitude that she has been working in on my side of the office, she is stricken with "low talker" syndrome. She was literally standing right in front of me and I could not hear a word she was saying.

Coworker: mmhmmmhm hmm (giggle)

Me: Yeah, totally. I think Madonna was going for She-Ra chic.

I just automatically assumed she was talking about Madonna's half-time performance that I'm pretty sure left Lady Gaga drunk in her palace somewhere crossing off "Cleopatra/She-Ra entrance" and calling her gay boyfriends to ask if they still think she's prettier than Madonna. I, of course, think that the Super Bowl is what all office people were talking about everywhere. Although a small portion would be going, "Did you watch Hitch? I haven't seen that in SOOOO long." If you guessed that was me than you are partially right. I was switching back and forth, ok. Geez. Then I watched the end of Hitch and got all teary, ok!? You're so judgy!

I spent the day getting settled into my new space and trying to be as silent as humanly possible to fit in. My squeaky chair had other plans. I switched it for a more quiet chair to only start sneezing about 6 times. An hour. I tried holding one in and then my ears blew out and it was like hearing underwater. I was waiting for my boss to start making whale sounds to communicate.

In my excitement that my dad gifted me some money to buy work clothes I purchased a pair of new heels. These new heels are amazing and wonderful and make me the tallest person in the office. I'm not joking. They are great. They are the hottest shoes I've ever owned. They are 3 and half inch heels with a platform. The escalator down into the bowels of the metro was broken at 8:15AM. My heels and I defied all laws of physics and somehow made it down all those stairs without becoming tomorrow's headline...

"Fashion Roadkill as Girl Takes a Tumble"

I wore the shoes for as long as my legs could hold me up. Which was about an hour before the side of me that likes cheese in all forms, stood up and said, "Please, before we set your hair on fire, take those damn shoes off." So I switched to my flats. My legs have still not fully recovered and may suffer permanent PTSD.

All in all I am looking forward to finding out exactly what the sounds of silence, that Art and Paul rave about, really are and figuring out future tenses in whale.