i'm so sorry pandora

 

i think one of the things that hurts my feelings most on a regular basis is the little box that pops up on pandora and asks, "are you still listening? we pay for every song and don't want to play our music to an empty room." it just hits me where it hurts. sometimes i read the first line like a small child, who wants me to watch them do a trick on the diving board but i'm too busy digging salsa out of the bottom of the jar so i miss it and they know i miss it so they climb out of the pool all wet and shivering and say "didja see it? were you watching?" in a mix between oliver's 'please sir i want some more' voice and the 'say it ain't so joe' kid's voice. and i'm left with salsa on my chin and no good explanation as to what happened. and pandora's generally right on this one - i did walk away from my computer to make hot chocolate. i did take off my headphone cause they were rubbing against my earrings but forgot to turn off the music. i'm a crummy person. i get it pandora. sheesh. 

but the next line they give me is just snarky. 'we don't like to play music to an empty room'. that's a sitcom girlfriend trying to start a fight kind of line. no, i get it pandora - i don't think anyone likes to play music to an empty room. but you're not really a person. i didn't hire a dj and then leave him in a closet spinning discs solo. i didn't order a 25 foot ice cream cake and let it melt at a graduation party. let's try to keep the snark levels down. all that sympathy and shame you won in the first line? lost by the second line. now i'm pissed at you pandora. now i'm glad i wasn't listening. because you're rude and you're making me feel like a jerk. i'm shutting you down pandora! i don't care about your feelings anymore! because you have been abusing my feels. rude.   

don't let me near an elevator

once upon a time, in a large corporate building, i was starving. like, i could feel my stomach acids eating away at the lining of my stomach kind of starving. so i went up to the cafeteria on the 43rd floor, piled my plate high at the salad bar in a way that only a person blinded by hunger can (my vision starts to blur and i think 'MUST. EAT. EVERYTHING. SURVIVAL.') and i pay and i start shoveling the food into my mouth as i get on the elevator with a bunch of women. i'm working on the problem but it's still not enough - maybe it hasn't reached my stomach yet, it's still being processed through my other tubes or whatever - i'm not a body expert. so my stomach is still pretty ornery. as we stop at the 38th floor and the doors open, my stomach emits a sound that i have never heard before. it's incredibly loud and almost metallic, like something the tin man might be capable of. the women in the elevator stop and look at one another.
"what was that?"
"maybe we should get out of this elevator.'"
"it doesn't sound safe - that sounded like something breaking."
"who has the number for maintenance?"
panic was breaking out in the elevator and the three corporate ladies were all prepared to be heroes, risking their lives to save the broken elevator shaft but i had to step forward.
"that was just my stomach."
this news was met with a small, relieved laugh, then looks of apprehension like 'who-let-this-hungry-robot-in-our-shiny-building-and-maybe-it's-not-her-stomach-but-another-robot-alien-under-her-shirt-transmitting-information-back-to-the-mothership', then slight pouting that they weren't going to be heroes. i kept quiet in my corner of the elevator and continued to shovel food into my mouth.  

22 year olds should not be allowed in the work space

 

i accidentally called 911 this week. whenever i dial out on my work phone, i have to dial '9' then '1' then the number. and this week, i forgot that the purpose of dialing that initial '1' was to start off the full phone number. so i dialed a second one, then a series of numbers and waited and waited and was annoyed that it seemed like it wasn't ringing, and then someone finally came on the other end and said 'DO YOU NEED THE POLICE?' and i didn't quite put together what was happening and thought it was strange that the person at RubberStamps.net was asking if I needed the police. Then I realized what happened and reassured the person that I absolutely did not need the police, just needed to talk to someone about custom rubber stamps. Maybe some day I will grow out of this. 

do you guys use exclamation points in your emails? i throw them around like ms. deen throws around butter. 'hey blergyblerg! i can definitely work on this! just let me know the details! thanks!' i think i come across sounding like an enthusiastic golden retriever - you can literally see my virtual tail wagging as you read the sentences - but using just periods sounds so cold and sterile. 'hey blergyblerg. i can work on that. (BUT I DON'T WANT TO BECAUSE I AM EVIL) just let me know the details. (FOR THE MURDER PLOT) thanks. (NOT REALLY THOUGH - SARCASTIC THANKS)' i feel like the periods only email makes me sound like daria with more sinister intentions. and if my options are apathetic hit man or golden retriever hopped up on mountain dew and team spirit, I think I prefer the latter. 

i get extremely overwhelmed in the elevator. mostly because there are always a lot of people in grays and blacks and suits without wrinkles and i'm always hopping in looking like rainbow brite at an outdoor music festival. (i would like to blame television for this one - they convinced me everyone would be much more adventurous in their attire. cough::lizzie mcguire::cough) i also frequently get the 'close doors' and 'open doors' buttons mixed up so as a person races towards the elevator and i attempt to be helpful, i just end up shutting it in their face. i have made a lot of elevator enemies this way.

 

there is one particular bathroom at work i always use. i do this with pretty much every space i frequent - i assign myself a bathroom. i don't know if you do this, but i'm pretty sure it's a universal thing. it's typically the second bathroom in - something i think may have to do with me being born on a tuesday (second day of the work week, first part sounds like 2) or the fact that i was born in the second month. either way, i'm always heading for that bathroom. i have other rules i make myself abide by (the every other stall rule is also notable) but this one is seriously ingrained in my mind. 

recently i walked into the bathroom at work, 100% on autopilot, pushed upon the door to my stall and started to sit down before i realized someone was in there. yeah that's right - i started to SIT DOWN. i almost sat on a woman's bare lap as she was mid-urine stream probably. i mean obviously, the main issue here is that her door wasn't locked. but another main issue is that i almost sat on her lap. but at least she wasn't someone from my department right? i don't have to interact with her on a regular basis. 

WRONG-O. i do have to interact with her on a regular basis, not because of work things, but because we have the same friggin bathroom schedule! our bodies apparently thrive on awkwardness because they insist on making us pee at the exact same time! obviously we never speak of that day and that thing that almost happened. obviously. but in between the lines of our pleasantries? there are some heavy implications. those are some heavy silences.