Caterwauling

So does the usual “Let Your People Go!” directive so the office can close early.

You know, I was born to be extraordinary. That’s meant superhuman challenges (and, sometimes, triumphs). There ain’t nothing normal about me, in any way/shape/form.

I would love to knock off early — or, hell, enjoy a day off — but it’s just not possible. Even if I did, it just means I have to make up for it over the weekend.

And Winger is in town tonight. Which, I had 100% planned to go see. If you don’t want to know how frustrated I am right now, chained to my desk, don’t ask.

However, there’s still time to FedEx some scandalous gutchies to the venue and ask a roadie to pelt Kip with them …

Everybody’s working for the weekend.

I”m working on the weekend.

The holiday weekend.

Again.

Funny thing is, I used to have some help and I can’t say I’ve been any less inundated since I stopped having it.

Good thing is, help arrives Monday.

So the body count can remain at zero for yet another “holiday” weekend where the rest of the company cheerfully e-mails that we can either A) leave early if our work is done (hah) or B) hold our breath waiting for people to come back from vacation to take care of things I needed them to take care of while they were off enjoying a week off.

Of course, I’d rather hear folks were on vacation than just siting in their office, refusing to do what I ask without my boss’ permission. Ain’t nobody got time for that, least of all me.

In case that wasn’t obvious.

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.