Imbecillusism of the Week: RUFKM!? Excuse-of-the-Week

Because I didn’t have my computer to give me the CALENDAR POP-UP to remind me that it was time to come over and cover for you”

I bet you’re laughing already. I will admit to laughing, but not in the way that conveys the pleasant surprise of finding something hilarious; but more in the way one laughs when on the verge of stapling one’s own mouth shut to prevent the Fires of Vengeance from escaping and causing a major disaster.

Or employment termination.

Our front-desk receptionist was out again yesterday. A bunch of us took turns covering her shift for an hour apiece.

Not only was my replacement, Nina, almost 20 minutes late but her Co-Admin, Grandma Useless (who did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING with all the agency mail in favor of READING A MAGAZINE during her shift) inexplicably waited until the fourth time she called me to explain what the holdup was.

HOW will I ever know WHEN to go home!?

HOW will I ever know WHEN to go home!?

Apparently Nina was getting her computer fixed.  She was on the phone with the MIS Assistant the WHOLE time, all while Grandma Useless repeatedly called me looking for her.

Apparently, though Nina and I had spoken before my shift to coordinate times, because of her lack of computer access…

she forgot to look at some OTHER FUCKING CLOCK.

Ladies and Gentleman, without the aid of a personalized automatic reminder with a twinkly little steel-drum sound Nina CANNOT be expected to get her ass anywhere on time.  I really hope her fucking husband is in charge of air-travel and court-dates.

*For the logic-impaired here is a convenient list of OTHER PLACES one can find “time”:

  1. A wall-clock
  2. Your cell-phone
  3. Wristwatch
  4. The desk-phone you’re calling me from, you EEDIOT!
  5. Tardis
  6. Sundial
  7. Sand
  8. Tree rings
  9. “Vintage” McDonald’s (breakfast was always over at 11:00 a.m.)
For the intelligence-impaired...

Behold – a keeper of annoying voicemails and TIME!


About LVital7019

Just your normal, everyday 9-5er. An uninspiring position in an inspirational non-profit moves me to constant goof-offery; aimless, on-the-job procrastination; a crankiness that borders on psychosis; and attempting to craft something meaningful with words. Just another so-called-job inspiring someone to feats of insanity with a hint of creativity... (Insert demonic laugh HERE.) View all posts by LVital7019

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Tony Single

artist. wastrel. a quantum of potential.

The Greenwich Village Literary Review

A magazine by writers who love to write for readers who love to read.

The Winter Bites My Bones

The Collected Poems of Dennis McHale: 1981-2016

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