Grey's Ant-atomy

So I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have a glamorous job. My cube is awash in a shade of grey normally reserved only for wet concrete. The walls loom over me like a proverbial dark cloud of gloom, responsibility and a life of servitude. Only a hint of color is provided by a mauve punchboard I stole from Bruce’s cube when his time here was prematurely cut short thank you Mr. extremely hot VP and his “reorganization” (ie: mass firings). Bruce is a lucky bastard….6 months severance pay. Why can’t I be so lucky??! That’s what I said to myself today when my work phone rang (as it has a tendency to do too often) and as I picked up the receiver to place to my ear, the phone cord tangled in a knot bringing the entire contraption of base, cord and phone receiver up towards my head. Burdened by the weight of a multi-line fancy pants phone system base, the cord connection finally gave way and the entire thing went crashing to the floor. On the other line….my boss….wondering what in the hell is going on over here. I’ll tell you what’s going on over here: I’m completely bored, unsatisfied and unstimulated with this gig. It’s quite a 180 degree turn from a year and a half ago when I showed up for my first day bushy tailed, bright eyed and giddy with the excitement of auto industry employment. Permanent auto industry employment! And, not with some shitty American car company so burdened with their own bureaucracy, red tape and borderline retarded employee base that they can’t make a car that doesn’t instill vomit inside my mouth. Oh the enthusiasm I had to learn how the Japanese conduct business, find efficiencies, reward hard work and celebrate success with lavish shin-digs, trips and showering gratitude upon their employees. Ha.
Cut to me now, in my grey cube staring at the computer monitor sparkling in a few little places where the pixels apparently called in sick today. I guess I should have too. Being sick seems far more enticing than this excel spreadsheet. And yes, that includes my recent bout with sickness I’ve entitled: “Mexico…it’s a crap shoot…” This recent job apathy is something relatively new to me. I normally don’t despise my job. I’ve never been golden-child-like showered with praise, money or respect (definitely not) but then again I’ve also never (until now) been paid so little for accomplishing so much while at the same time looking something fierce in my grey slacks (coordinated with my cube walls of course). All I ask is that I be paid a sufficient enough amount to cover the essentials: rent and Hostess cupcakes. I take a lot of pride in what I produce and it’s hard to include much effort or oomph when my output is regarded so lowly. I literally am one of a million ants working painstakingly to build this anthill of a company and I’m just waiting for the queen ant to eat me. Or whatever happens in the ant world…I much prefer documentaries of the wilds of the Hollywood Hills to those of the wilds of…well…the wild. Either way, my daily lack of challenge and reward effectively acts as a can of Raid spraying poison on my enthusiasm. But unfortunately, this ant has bills to pay….

Making the switch....

I’m shunning the normal OC therapy formats (ie: pills washed down with a dry martini and the weekly sob session on some lightly qualified but covered-by-my-insurance shink’s couch) and writing a blog. Yes, I’m about 8 years behind the times. I’ve always been a late bloomer… Being my first official blog, I decided this blog should be about…writing blogs. True to my roots as a late bloomer, and due to my undying obsession with the show Mr. Belvedere, I’ve always kept a very thorough journal…hard copy with a pen and very, very shitty handwriting. For whatever reason, my thoughts seem to flow more freely when jiggled through my hand to pen and transferred to paper. I’m an old-fashioned late bloomer who’s found chicken pecking my various twisted internal struggles and diatribes onto a keyboard inefficient and impersonal. But after seeing dear friend after dear friend make the switch, I guess it’s my time too.
The main issue I have with blogging isn’t necessarily the restrictions caused by my limited typing capabilities or the technical disconnect perse. It’s more that blogs are intended, by design and by this damn thing called the internet, to be viewed by others. Yikes. People are going to read what’s going on…in my head?! That’s a frightening situation…for me and the poor sap who stumbled across the train wreck. Normally, I prefer to keep what’s going on in my head and heart under tight lock and key which is also then surrounded by moat and labyrinth. It’s a scary state of affairs inside this head of mine and I’ve chosen not to frighten the children. As some have possibly noted, I’m not too bad at expressing thoughts or opinions (regardless of how troubling it is for the recipient to hear…but they need to hear it and it might as well be from me….) when it comes to somebody else’s dilemma or poor taste of hair style. I’m good at handling and making recommendations of the struggles other people face, but the process I go through facing, analyzing and eventually dealing with my own can be a bit troubling and misunderstood. Do I really want to be judged on that? I’d much rather have somebody form an opinion about me based on appearance alone. Regardless of my valid (because I say they are) concerns, I’m still embarking on this journey of blogging. Don’t judge this late bloomer too harshly….