Record Breaking.

I've actually been here longer than my workaholic boss.

Demotion...

Considering the passive-aggressive nature of this entire office, no one would ever really tell me that I have been demoted into a secretarial position and that the secretary (whom everyone adores because she is the "typical blonde") has basically taken my place.

Today it was more along the lines of..."Oh...PR Minion...why don't you stay and answer phones while Typical Blonde goes to the event that you have actually worked on?"
So basically, the Press Assistant has to stay in the office to answer phones while the Secretary, whose job is to answer phones, gets to frolic with the famous people. I think this is further proof of looks outweighing brains on a grand scale.
I sort of stare in disbelief and ignore the request until a few hours later when my actual boss tells me that I need to stay in my cheap office chair "in case something happens".
In case something happens? I think.
What am I supposed to do "in case something happens" when I'm not even allowed to talk to the Press? I guess I'm supposed to deliver a glorified message, that only I, being the ever so exalted "Press Assistant", can deliver.

One would think that if I am forced to "be present" for 12 hours a day in this office, that I would at least get more out of it than the 3 pounds I have gained in 2 weeks because of being so exhausted once I get to the gym at 8 o'clock at night that I can only burn about 100 calories on the elliptical machine while the trim Typical Blondes who sweated their Diet Cokes away at 5:30 are out drinking their late night dinners with attractive men...probably their bosses.

Although in my case, "attractive" is hardly a term that can be applied to my boss.

Information Please

In an effort for this blog to be informative for its readers...although I don't think there are any...I am attaching a blog that I have yet to review, but may prove interesting for my "audience".

If you're interested in looking into ways that would lead you out of your soul-sucking line of work, you may want to look here for ideas.

Editing...

Despite the fact my job is dealing with the press, I got in trouble today for talking to the press twice this week. I had been talking to the press the entire time before, but it just so happens that this time my name got in the paper...perhaps taking a little glory away from my anal-retentive, semi-evil boss...and therefore, today in my outlook I received a passive-aggressive wrist slap of an email.
Yes...we do business in the same office.
No...there are no (much-needed) partitions that would hinder verbal communication.
Yes...my boss reprimanded me by sending me an email despite the fact we were in the same room at the same time.

I have totally begun to feel that my boss is trying to edit me completely out of existence. He brutalizes my work into a mere shell of its former self making me sound like a slow-brained underling. Sometimes I think he purposely tries to make me sound completely stupid.
I hate him.

Morning Drive Musings

This morning as I was driving to work, I began to examine all of the people in their cars who were also driving to work. There was the overly made up woman on her pink razr cell phone. She looked like she'd spent her entire bonus on collagen injections and highlights.
There was the chunky, middle-class dad in the ugly shirt who probably lives in the same sort of siding-house suburb that I do. He was eating a fast food breakfast in his Chevy Cavalier. He looked a little miserable.
Thinking about it...so did Collagen Woman.
And probably, if they were looking at me, they would have seen that I, too, was miserable.

So I must wonder, is there anyone who is happy and settled and actually likes their career? Or will I find myself, at 55, spending my nest egg on low-end cosmetic surgery?

Just Another Day at Work

I decided to retreat to the conference room in order make some PR calls.
There is old clear box of what appears to have once been a "healthy dinner" sitting across from me.
I think it's been here so long...that it has actually evolved into something else.

I swear it's looking at me.
It reminds me of my boss.

When the Cat's Away...

The boss and the psuedo-not-really-my-boss-but-still-my-superior-because-he's-older-and-has-worked-here-longer have left for lunch. This is a momentous event, a blog-worthy item because, they never leave for lunch because they are workaholics in the classic workaholic sense...as in...during the few hours of sleep they get, they dream about work.
Then, they brag to each other periodically throughout the day about how much their job kills their social life/ages them/makes them fat/makes them crazed insomniacs who live on Starbucks and Diet Coke and cheap, carb-laden food.
It's like:
"I haven't gone on a date in a year!"
"Well...I haven't even touched a woman in a year...not even a hug from my mom!"
"Well...I haven't even SEEN a woman for a year! (directed toward me) No offense."

I might think about leaving the room if they start talking about the time intervals between masturbating...I really don't think I could handle that mental image.

All the Small Things

Is it any surprise that I am bored at work?

Next up....
How will my boss underestimate my intelligence and demean my character today?
Only time will tell.

Today was the saddest day...

Nearly 3,000 people dying at the hands of terrorists while they were about to start work in their respective cubicles.
Moment of silence.