Quirk #8

I really hate coming off like I'm an idiot.

Okay, maybe this isn't a quirk. I don't think I know anyone who actually enjoys having people truly think they're an imbecille. I know people who don't care what other people think about their intelligence (either they're smart enough to know that other people are just stupid, so their opinons are useless, or they're too stupid to realize that seeming stupid doesn't help them in life), but none of them actually enjoy it. Me, well, I care if people realize I'm actually quite smart. I much prefer being thought of as intelligent, and go out of my way to make sure people realize I am. I don't care if people like me or not. They can think of, and call, me a bitch openly. It doesn't bother me. As long as they know I'm a smart bitch.

It's not something that I'm proud of. I show off, mentally, and its a really shallow thing to do. Which is funny, because I don't think of myself as a shallow person. Quite the opposite actually.

Anyway.

So I hate being put into situations that make me look stupid, especially when the reason I look stupid is because I am completely and totally uninformed about something that the person putting me in the situation already knew, and should have told me. And so far today, I have ended up in these types of situations 3 times.

My desk is the closest to the door to our cube farm, and as such, it falls upon me to direct anyone who happens to need directing. So someone comes in to ask if one of my co-workers is around. So I say "if her computer is on, she probably is. if it's not, she's probably not." Upon saying this, another woman in the office decides to pipe up that said co-worker is on vacation for the week. Why she couldn't have piped up when she heard the person ask... I don't know. Why there were no "on vacation" signs posted at this co-worker's desk, I don't know. But I ended up sounding stupid as a result.

So later, another person comes in asking for the same co-worker. Having found out that she's on vacation, I try to direct them to her supervisor. Whereupon the same person that piped up before says "oh, her supervisor is on vacation too." And I nearly slam my head into my desk right then and there. But no, I hold back, and ask politely who is covering while they're gone. The answer? She is. Why she couldn't have told me all that earlier, the first time I made an ass of myself, is beyond me. But whatever.

So after that, someone comes in asking for someone that does not sit in our office (or so I thought). I look at them, confused, and try to direct them downstairs. Whereupon I'm informed by that person that the someone they're looking for moved here. Okay, its a big office, but not THAT big -- I thought -- so I'd know if someone moved in... Right? Apparently not. Apparently this person moved into the far end of the office a WEEK ago, and no one bothered to tell me. And all this I find out from... Guess who. The exact same person who stepped in the first two times.

I really am not sure who to be upset at... My boss for not keeping me in the loop? The people who went on vacation without putting notes on their doors/desks? The people moving into my office without so much as a "hi how are ya? I'm staying for a while"?

GRRR.

I. Am. Not. Hungry!

So I'm sitting at my desk, quietly wasting time, and one of the women from the next office over comes into our office, and starts offering everyone potato chips.

"No thank you," I say.
"Oh come on, you're afraid of potatoes?" She says.
"No..."
"Try one then, its sweet potato"
"No thank you"
"But its just like at Thanksgiving!"
"No thank you, I'm not hungry"
"You know, like with marshmallow and cinnamon" She continues, ignoring me.
"No. Thank you." I say, and glare at her until she goes away.

What is it about working in an office thats 90% staffed by women over the age of 35? They're always bringing in everything that they're not supposed to eat, and shoving it down everyone elses throat. Its like, because they're not supposed to eat it, they have to make themselves feel better about eating it by making everyone else eat it too!

This kind of thing happens all the time. So and so gets chocolates for Mother's day. Where do those chocolates end up? Next to the printer in the middle of our office with a little sign saying "Please have one!" The chick at the far end of the office has a birthday, and cake is brought in. Cake that I don't care for. And at least 5 different people stop by my desk telling me to "go have some!" Someone decides they want a doughnut for breakfast. What do they do? They buy a huge box full of them, and put it out for the rest of us to have.

Look, I'm not against junk food. I LOVE junk food. In fact, I eat too much of it on my own. If I wanted junk food, I'd have gone out and bought some. So, if I'm turning it down, that means I REALLY don't want any. I weigh quite enough as it is, and I'm not interested in weighing more just because you people need to have someone join you in your dietary sins so you can "feel okay" about stuffing your face like a pig.

And please, don't give me that hurt look when I stifle my urge to tell you to fuck off because I don't need to add another 5 pounds to my ass, and instead politely say "no thank you, I'm not hungry." You may weigh 350lbs, but I don't want to.

GAH!

Please Dispose of Your Cheese Elsewhere!

To my office mates:

Whoever decided that the communal office garbage can was a good place to dispose of your really horrible rotting cheese "thing," made a BIG mistake.

Now, instead of the staff lounge (which I don't have to visit if I don't choose to) smelling like this miserable rotten mess, everyone in our office has to partake of this wretched stink for the entire rest of the day. Not only are we forced to partake while we are at our desks, but the odor is rather disturbingly melding itself with my hair and clothing, so even when I leave the office, I'm still tortured by this awful smell. And when I go home, it will saturate the interior of my car, inflict itself upon my family, until finally it insinuates itself into every article of clothing in my laundry bin. I have my doubts about how effective any amount of laundry detergent will be against this odiforous scourge... It may well follow me to my grave. So please...

Please dispose of your cheese elsewhere!