As someone who spends most of his workday “not” surfing the internet, and “not” wishing he were at home or dead, it often seems strange to me that I am so thoroughly disgusted with the unprofessionalism of my colleagues. But, I think that in my heart of hearts I am a good, productive worker, and if you don’t buy that then maybe you’ll grant me the very minimal credit of at least knowing what a good, productive worker looks like. T-Boz gets more personal phone calls in a half hour on the job than I do in a month of free time. This frustration with the inability of others to be better paragons of business/office practice than I even extends to my bosses, whose every failure to conduct themselves according to the highest standards of parliamentary procedure only makes me less inclined to do anything other than “not” shop for dream houses on the internet and “not” write emails to an imaginary pen-pal named Hans who lives in a modern condo on the Rödingsmarkt in Hamburg, Germany.
What every employer I have ever had has failed to realize is that I am not shiftless and lazy, nor am I a spoiled debutante, I simply don’t understand why I have to wake up early if I’m not going to actually do anything before eleven, and why I have to stay until five when I’m clearly not going to do any work after three p.m.
Oh, Hans just im’ed me about a totally sweet Rammstein video they just played on MTV Europe. Got to go.
What every employer I have ever had has failed to realize is that I am not shiftless and lazy, nor am I a spoiled debutante, I simply don’t understand why I have to wake up early if I’m not going to actually do anything before eleven, and why I have to stay until five when I’m clearly not going to do any work after three p.m.
Oh, Hans just im’ed me about a totally sweet Rammstein video they just played on MTV Europe. Got to go.