How Does One Schedule Madness?

Hey boss,

I just wanted to express my sincerest empathy to you regarding this whole schedule reorganization thing. I know that overhauling all of our work schedules is a difficult task. I've also heard all the chatter from the other employees about how your new scheduling practices are "inconsistent" and "constantly perplexing" and "ruining everyone's lives" and yadda, yadda, yadda.

Some people just like to complain, I guess.

I, on the other hand, totally get why you're changing to this more free-wheelin' or "random" system, as others have called it. It's all in the suspense!

Remember when we'd get our monthly schedules issued to us two weeks in advance--almost like clockwork--and those schedules would have consistent shift patterns? There was no drama in that, whatsoever. Talk about BO-RING! Am I right?

I really enjoy the tension. The waiting. The pondering. The more waiting. The hoping that I'm not the one who has to work 13 shifts in one week. The even more waiting...

It's just like being on a game show, except the prize isn't a new car or a tasteful outdoor patio set. The prize is not having to work during my niece's school play that I requested off three months ago.

All in all, I don't think there's anything too complicated about our new schedules. Take mine, for example:

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, I work in the morning, at 6:30, 7:30, and 7:18 respectively.
Tuesdays I work night shifts usually starting at 2:30, but possibly at 4:30, depending on what phase the moon cycle is in.
Fridays I have half a day off, unless someone calls in sick, in which case I work 19 hours and then come in the following day at noon to correct any errors I made the day before.
Every other weekend I work one morning shift and one night shift, obviously. Unless it's the last weekend of the month, in which case I simply call you each morning and have you tell me what time to come in and whether I need to bring lunch for the office.
April Fool's Day I get the day off and you pay for my all-inclusive trip to Jamaica, where I simply work from my company bungalow. (You compensate me for that annually on February 30th, from what I understand.)
The night of the EMMYs I work half a shift in the morning and half a shift at night, unless of course Adele sweeps all the categories she was nominated in, because then I stay overnight.

It's. So. Simple! I can't believe people actually complain about this kind of stuff. What's next, people whining about the lack of locks for our lockers?? (Although, I gotta admit, that would be a lot of fun to say out loud.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: keep up the good work and don't let a bunch of cry-babies get you all worked up over the little details.

Dependably yours,
Your employee

Too Good to Be True?

Coworkers,

Hmm. I'm not really sure what to say to you guys right now. You've all been so...pleasant? Is that--yeah, I suppose that's the right word. Pleasant. And hard-working.

Hmm.

You've been so good that I wonder if I've fallen into a coma, or if I've been staring into a snow globe this past month while your kind acts and overall non-butthole-ishness were all taking place in my head. You know, like St. Elsewhere? But less eventful and I don't have autism...

Am I getting Punk'D? Is this one of those things where you lull me into a false sense of security, only to come back with something harder and stronger and stupider than ever before? Because, if so, I feel like you should tell me that. I know that would seem counter-intuitive to your big surprise douchebaggery, but rest assured, if that happens and you DIDN'T warn me, I'll literally cut off all your genitalia, put it in a box, and donate it to Goodwill. Because I don't play. But I do give to charity.

Anywho, hope we can keep this streak going. Because there's something about leaving work and not wanting to commit a serious felony that is so...refreshing.

Appreciatively,
Your coworker

Pee Poem

A poem, dedicated to the neanderthals who haven't entirely figured out how all the trappings of the employee restrooms work...

Six hours in, I can't contain it anymore
My body's breaking, my bladder's sore
I'm making a break for it
I'm taking a break to make a deposit

Oh
Oh, eww

I just wanted to engage in some brief reflection
Let this out so I don't get a urinary infection
I needed a little me time
A little pee time would be so fine

Oh
Oh, eww
Is that...?

But before I can release I look down
I was almost at peace but now I frown
Because directly below me
Is a whole lotta pee, don't you agree?

Oh
Oh, eww
Yeah, that definitely is, isn't it?
Oh Christ

It's on the ground
It's in AND around
The seat that no one should sit on
Because there's pee there

There's pee there, you guys
Seriously


- Your coworker

About That Blood

Attention coworkers:

Does anyone know how to get dried blood off the copying mechanism of the copier? Anyone? Seriously, any amateur cleaning advice would be greatly appreciated at this point in time.

Club soda had no effect. Neither did fresher, wetter blood. Turns out they do not, in fact, cancel each other out as one might hope.

On an unrelated note, if anyone is out there thinks that seahorses are small enough to just slide through the double-sided copying tray without issue...you would be wrong.

Please and thank you,
Your coworker

Where Did All the Pens Go?

Seriously guys. What's going on here?

Every time I go to write something, there are no pens around. Where are all the pens? I shouldn't have to take a blood oath just so I can finish signing my name. I have a long name, too, you assholes. That's a lot of blood. I'd much rather use a pen.

Is there some hidden receptacle where all our pens go? Do we lose a pen every time the radio plays "Call Me Maybe"? Because I'll change the station. I'll do it. There are other radio stations that don't play that song. Not many, but they exist.

Just like the pens. There's not many, but they DO exist! They're not mythical creatures. I've seen them around our workplace. Speaking of quantity...

Let's suppose everyone who works here uses a new pen every other day. Even then, we'd be down only thirty, maybe forty pens a week. Now, I don't know the exact lifespan of a writing utensil, but if I was forced to give my expert opinion, I'd say it should last longer than a Cialis-infused erection. (The key difference is that we don't need to call a doctor if the pen still works after 6 hours.)

Help me out here guys. Where do they all go? Does someone here need pens for their off -Broadway production of "Luck Be a Ballpoint?" Is someone using them as props in their disappearing act? If so, congratulations! You're a terrific magician! But you're a shitty coworker.

My point is, I'm sick of scavenging for writing utensils like a pre-wintertime squirrel. I shouldn't have to  hoard all that sweet, sweet ink, bloating my pockets with clicky tops and twisty bottoms on the chance that I were to walk over to the pen jar and find it as depressingly empty as the soul of whoever's been thieving all of our Paper Mates!

Unless...is everyone hoarding the pens? Is there now an expectation that the pen jar will be vacant, causing us all to collect pens like kids in the 80s collected Pogs? Is that what we've become? POG COLLECTORS?

Here's what I'm gonna do: I'm coming into work tomorrow with two boxes of Bics. And if by the end of the week, there's at least one pen from that batch remaining, we're going to have a pizza party. Sound good?

So, the decision's yours: pizza or pen. Make the right choice, dummies.

- Your coworker

You Look Like a Toot.

Dear coworker,

You look a little bit like a fart. I know that probably doesn't make much sense to you, because...well, who looks like a fart? How's that possible, right? But seriously, you look like the physical incarnation of a fart. If the fart were to put on a funny hat and a big grin, that would be you.

And please, don't misunderstand, it's not that you smell bad or anything. And it's not just your face, or your stature, or any one particular thing about you. You just have a certain je ne se poo, as the French might call it.

I don't mean to be mean, but I'm saying this because I believe honesty is the best policy. And so that you'll know why I laugh every time you walk into the room.

"Ha ha. Fart person," is what I'll say.

Dooty-fully,
Your coworker

The More You Know (The More Annoying You Become)

Taylor,

Did you know that carrots used to be purple? And that the orange variety we know today wasn't cultivated until the late 16th century?

No?

Do you give a shit?

Still no?

Great, now remember exactly how you feel at this moment the next time you try cramming a dozen equally forgettable factoids into my ear holes whenever there's a lull in the work day. Because your "fun facts" are just regular facts dressed up in a boring Halloween costume. And it's November, you asshole.

Matter of factly,
Your coworker