So, internet. I've been a sucky blogger lately, haven't I? That's been pretty much due to a lack of anything interesting happening in my life for the past few weeks, coupled with the fact that I think there's only so much grinchitude that can be expressed on one web page before people start to suspect that your heart really is made of coal, isn't it? Well coal makes diamonds, people. So here it comes. My last holiday rant. I promise.
We've established that my office has a quadruple-triple-gadzillion times the normal amount of holiday spirit. Now, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I'll prove to that my coworkers are just batshit insane.
I'd like to submit as Prosecution's Exhibit A, a list of the holiday activities that have, thus far taken place:
- Secret Santa "12 Days of Christmas"
- White Elephant
- Several games during Christmas breakfast, including guess how many hershey kisses in the vase and who has a sticker under the chair, you get a prize
- Several people brought gifts for THE ENTIRE (35+ PEOPLE) OFFICE
- Abuse of holiday cards
- Individual gifts for people in our smaller office sprung on me yesterday. I THOUGHT WE HAD AN UNDERSTANDING, PEOPLE.
Last night I had to go out and scavenge for gifts for my small work group, because apparently people did not get the memo that we weren't gifting each other this year. I swear, we did talk about this, and everyone agreed that it was just too much, none of us needed a holiday photo frame or candle, so we'd just forgo any gift exchange. Then, after work on Tuesday, one girl whips out this bag filled with thoughtfully chosen gifts for each of us. The next day, another woman brings in gifts, sheepishly saying that she would feel guilty not reciprocating Tuesday-girl's gifts, so here you are, happy holidays. Which means that last night, I had to go out and look for something "thoughtful" and "not ugly" for four people that I thought were the only not-totally crazy people in this office. Then I got home and remembered that have no more scotch tape. So I used duct tape and lugged my ugly, overpriced, totally not thoughtful gifts in to the office today, only to find that Tuesday-girl and Wednesday-woman are BOTH out sick. Sick?? I don't care if you're sick, get your asses in here, I HAVE GIFTS FOR YOU, ASSHOLES!
I hope everyone likes the doggie treats I bought for them while I was out buying a new collar for Max. I especially the coworker who doesn't have a dog likes her gift. Hey, they were apple cinnamon flavor, they can't be that bad.
Prosecution's Exhibit B:
Now, the one thing that I love about the holiday season is Christmas cards. I just finished sending mine out, and I'm actually feeling a sense of loss. What am I going to do while I watch three Tivo-ed episodes of Law and Order every night now? How am I going to let all my friends and family members know I love them? I guess I could just, you know, pick up the phone or write an email or something, but that's just not as much fun. I have a serious love of the handwritten word, as well as an addition to pretty paper products, which is probably why Barnes and Noble is still in business. You want to know where my paycheck goes? Barnes and Noble. Coffee, books, and paper products all under one roof. It's a money-sucking heaven.
So I have nothing against cards. What I do have a problem with is waste, needless obligations, people pushing their religion on me, and ugly things. When I find no less than 8 cards with an ugly ass bird or deformed snowman on them, saying things like "May the Lord Bless You on This Sacred Day, Amen (The Bible 456:23), with nothing written inside but "To Jen, From Me", I have a problem. If you have nothing to say to me, then please do waste your money and the life of a tree by giving me a card.
Yesterday I got a card that just said "For you" It was signed by "Barb" There is no one by that name in my office. I have no idea where it came from, and obviously Barb did not know my name with enough certainty to risk writing it on the envelope.
But possibly the best one was from today. It was hand delivered, with a long explanation about why it had no envelope, and how it was handmade with love. On the front, it had a poem, apparently written by The Aspiring Artist herself:
Inside, in banner font, was printed: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
I suppose I should just be happy she limited herself to a total of four exclamation points.
As I was just eating through the seventeenth little bag of candy left in my mailbox, I bit into what I thought was a carmel-filled Hershey kiss. Instead it was filled something that tasted EXACTLY like cough syrup. Blech. I'm not sure how that ties in the rest of this, but I can't stick around and think about it, because I must go wash out my mouth with Diet Coke now.
As a joke, one of the coworkers that I mistakenly thought was not totally crazy (before she brought in gifts on Wednesday and thus became Dead To Me), received what I believe to be the Ugliest Christmas Sweater Known to Mankind in the mail. One of the companies we work with, which is run by a very fashionable, exuberantly gay man, came down for a visit and witnessed the atrocities that most of our office-mates wear during December. We're talking reindeer with flashing red noses on a sweater. One person had on a sweatshirt with kittens and puppies wearing santa hats on the front, and the rear of the animals printed on the back, so as to give the illusion that these poor, innocent animals are extending through her very body. So, this fashionable man thought it would be funny to buy the most hideous Christmas sweater he could find on Ebay, and send it to us. And let me assure you, it was hideous. My not-totally insane coworker had it slung over her chair so that we could take a picture of her wearing it with my phone later, and no less than three people who stopped by remarked, in all seriousness, on how beautiful her sweater was, and even asked where she'd gotten it.
This has made me rethink every compliment I've ever gotten on my outfits at work. I think I need to go home and burn my entire wardrobe. Come to think of it, people were fawning over my hair the other day. The hair that I never brush and wash twice a week. The hair that I squish down with a hat on the way to the office, even when it's warm out, to make it look "styled". I guess I need to shave my head, too.
I honestly cannot take any more of this. So, I would ask you, ladies and gentlemen, to please convict my office of Holiday Insanity in the First Degree, and consider a life's sentence of being forbidden to wear clothing themed around any one day of the year, including any materials that draw into question the spatial properties of baby animals. If you don't find them guilty, and tell me that I'm not the only one who thinks this is OUT OF CONTROL, I am going to need to call in sick for the entire month of December next year.
So, I promise, that was my last Christmas-bashing post. Tomorrow I start my 10-day vacation from this place, and hopefully I will return well-rested and brainwashed and will not have to endure any more insanity for the next 11 months. We'll be heading to New Jersey on Christmas day, and then to Vermont to visit Joel's family on the 27th. Wish me luck. I hear it's not 45 degrees in December there, which is a real shame.
I'm not sure how much I'll be posting until we get back, but "not much" would probably be a safe bet. It's hard for me to find time to sit down and actually write something when there's food to be eaten and TV to be watched.
Happy Holidays, whether you're celebrating the birth of the Savior, or just having a couple of days off of work. Here's to hoping there's no snow to be seen and global warming keeps the temperature about 50.
Ms. Grinch Over-and-Out