Caterwauling

I am not a fan of dating colleagues (anymore) because there is nothing like the moment when you find out everyone thinks you’re slumming.

Which, I guess is better than them thinking the other person is too good for YOU.

But anyway. I’ve often said that if I wouldn’t give someone a reference (and I don’t give many of those), I don’t want to be friends or anything more with them. Because, if I can’t fly with the eagles, I think going solo is better than having some do-do bird lead me crashing into a tree.

So anyway, I was talking with a friend this week (whom I would endorse). And I have to add to my existing rule to say “I’m not a fan of my friends working with people I date at other companies.”

I heard about what a waste of space a would-be suitor is. This came from someone I would trust with my life.

Which, there you have it. I officially cannot date anybody.

In my own twisted way, I guess I can say I was right to have the rule — I just never knew it applied to EVERYBODY in the whole entire workforce.

And I am NOT expanding my candidate pool to the “men without jobs” sector …

[observation redacted]

[reaction redacted]

[personal story mean to illustrate current outrage, which I couldn’t post several years ago but it’s fair game now since I can’t post new stories, redacted]

[generalized, veiled-but-not comment redacted]

[comment about trying again, being grateful for what I have, and praying for better days inserted]

Yet another friend at work said goodbye to me. Yesterday was his last day. Found a new opportunity elsewhere.

He was a class act and didn’t say anything else. And I’ve gotten pretty rehearsed at saying, “The loss is ours” and meaning it with my whole heart, while also conveying my unspoken understanding.

We shared one last laugh, wished each other luck, and parted ways for good.

Related: Only 30% of Americans report being engaged at work

Funny, I drove behind him going home and he didn’t floor it and take off like a bat out of hell.

I guess I always expect people to do that drive for the last time with some flourish. God knows when we move the office later this year, I’ll be four-wheeling in the Sunfire like my ass was ablaze.

To “cap” off a banner day, I just swallowed the temporary cap on my tooth. Dentist tomorrow.

Oh, the joy of losing time during a holiday-shortened week.

Speaking of losing time today, I lost the whole morning due to [comment redacted before I even typed it].

Now, whether to bother Googling what could happen after swallowing a hunk of cement …

That almost all of your problems (and I am using “your” in the plural sense, as in “our”) can generally be traced back to one source? Who cannot be arsed to fix any of them because they believe they cannot gain anything by it? Hypothetically speaking, natch.

Relevant: The 4 Reasons You’re Unmotivated (And the Antidote for Each)

Why are we so afraid that being on the verge of a breakthrough could just as easily end in a breakdown as a break out?

Amityville offers quite a cast of characters. Most have come and gone without me even noticing. While others leave an indelible stain on my soul.

Arthur the Attorney who moved out recently was a friend, as was Lady V down the hall. She’s still here but things are … complicated there.

And we know my zero-tolerance policy for drama.

In any event, there’s a gal who’s lived here throughout my five years. Bitch be cray with a capital CRAY.

Generally I know her by her wigs. She must have a pumpkin-sized noggin like mine because none of them fit her right. I have one wig that I bought with the intent of “wear it when running late for work.”

But my brain is way too big to be contained in that little petite mop. So, it’s in a box till some voodoo priest shrinks my head or something equally ridiculous.

In any event, Lisa doesn’t work. Her car doesn’t run. I’ve never seen her leave. But she fucks any male who walks onto the premises. Good-looking ones, too.

Till they realize she’s BONKERS. And run screaming.

Today Lisa reeled in some guy (kind of hot) and was asking him to take her for a ride. Which, obviously, her car doesn’t work. And she had a new wig to show off. Which, like all the others, was crooked and pulled way too far down her forehead.

I’d feel sad for her if I weren’t worried she’d cut me while I walk past her.

The man she was with was clearly trying to GET AWAY. He looked at me, almost for help.

What you boys don’t understand is I know y’all like a crazy bitch. The crazier, the better. Crazytown seems to have an altar and a justice of the peace, too. So, tie some cans to your car and prepare to live out your dreams … or Stephen King or Wes Craven’s dreams. Whichever.

So anyway, he’s looking at me like, hunh, picked up the wrong chick here.

And while he was cute, let me break it to you gently, men who associate with crazy bitches lose their cute in a BIG hurry. I’ve got my own special brand of cray but most bitches make that drink a lot stronger than I ever will.

So, good luck with that, hot stuff.

But while you leave skid marks on your way out of this pothole-filled parking lot, don’t worry about her being lonely. Residents last here on average 67 days. We’ll have a whole new batch for cray-cray to prey upon in no time.

I noticed my old church is hiring someone with my weirdly wonderful skill set. And it doesn’t pay jack.

Funny how they rake in billions and just opened up a ministry in NYC and they go all over the planet saving the world but couldn’t spare a dime for their local fellowship.

Also funny how they all preach that we should have bigger dreams, bigger goals, bigger tithes. That we shouldn’t settle for the current size of our houses or for our current jobs or even our current lots in life.

God wants us to dream bigger, live bigger, give bigger. That I agree with. Except when it comes to “giving bigger” to these religious corporations that don’t give a good God damn about the people who need their leadership most.

And that they can’t even pay commensurate with those dreams, well, says it all.

Fools.

D.C. ranks third in employee satisfaction.

Here’s how D.C.’s top companies are re-imagining the office.

And here are the best workplace perks, within that group.

Did you ever hear the sound of something failing before it even got off the ground?

Trust me, you don’t have to listen too closely. It pretty much puts a cymbal over your head and beats it with a hammer.

*stuffing fist in mouth and whipping out offline journal*