I just dread Sunday evenings because I know they lead to Monday mornings.
Please, allow me to bitch about things that make me irate at work:
1. Monday morning elevator smalltalk, which always goes a little something like this:
Nancy: Hi Kat, how was your weekend?
Kat: Oh, regretfully short, Nancy. How was yours?
Nancy: It was fine. I spent a lot of time with the kids. We went up to see my mother at her place and planted a few tomatoes. Then we went to go watch [name of shitty hyped up movie] as a family on Sunday night. It was good.
Kat: Good (leave me the fuck alone).
2. The workplace Gossip who tries to elicit information out of you about things you couldn’t care less about.
Sarah: So I hear Margaret is quitting! Oh, so sad to see her go. Do you know why she’s leaving? Does she have a better job waiting? Is she moving to the U.S.? Did she win the lottery? Is she dying?
3. Wearing pants.
4. Being intruded upon by a barging coworker who thinks that my office is just an extension of his office. I tremble like a meek baby rabbit whenever I hear his shoes clacking on the floors out of his office, and into mine.
5. Having to pretend to be nice to people I don’t like. We all had coworkers we aren’t too fond of. Pretending to be nice is exhausting, especially when you’re dealing with a moron or a catty coworker who hasn’t quite grown out of her highschool days.
6. And finally, drowning in a sea of e-mails every morning, because some people would rather cc me on shit I don’t care about than enjoy their weekend.
Yes, many things make me irate at work. However, I must admit that I do my job well and probably make everyone else look like a bunch of assholes.