She can’t with me.

I haven’t shared much since my old job. Which is a real travesty, since I have so many good stories lined up. (Don’t worry, screenshots are coming your way.)

Let’s just jump in real quick with a good share from today. I share my (tiny-used-to-be-a-storage-closet) office with two girls. This afternoon, between meetings I ran into the one we shall call Chiquita. She’s a nurse. 

So, Chiquita goes into a patient’s room with a giant needled shot. As she’s leaving I can hear her calling out, nicely: happy birthday. 

She sits down in our office. I turn towards her and say, inquisitively, “Did you just tell that patient happy birthday after giving her a shot?”

“While giving the shot. I said happy birthday!”

“Is it really her birthday?” I ask, stupidly. 

“Of course.”

As if Chiquita would never randomly say something weird. I am so dumb. Clearly. 

“And you shot her in the butt? On her birthday?” Why do I ask these things?

“I did.” 

“Usually when it’s your birthday, you usually get to DO the shooting in the butt. At least that’s what tv has taught me.”

She said she “can’t, with me.” And faced her computer screen with such conviction. As if she hadn’t thought of that herself. Or maybe she can’t (stop laughing) with me. (Because I’m so hilarious.) 

I’ll Huff and I’ll Puff

I’m going through my work phone, clearing off old pictures and finding some amazing screenshots that I forgot all about. Here’s one from about 5 months ago that made me laugh again. How in the hell can Foxy still like me? At least I threw in a real “concern” about her plight at the end?

Ole!

My boss is amazing. This is not to be confused with old “bosshole” new one is outstanding. I suppose that’s why there are no posts lately. My new job is unicorns and rainbows most days.

This week, my boss was discussing an issue with a fellow co-worker and told me to take off  my employee hat and put on my friend hat so she could speak freely.

Unfortunately for her, she was ill-prepared for me to pretend to take off a fedora and put on a sombrero.

Poor boss. She has no idea what she got herself into when she hired me a few months ago.

I’ll Take An Ariana Frap and a Shaq Latte

Co-worker (herein referred to as Foxy) text me to say she’d be at my site shortly and would I and/or BossLady like something from Starbucks.

I usually say no. Today, not so much. Instead, this happened.

When she dropped it off she said, “When I ordered it that way, there was dead silence on the other end of the intercom. And then so much laughter.”

You’re welcome, world. I showed up today.

That Shit Is Cray.

I learned two important lessons today: my phone only keeps 20 messages in a group (which means I can’t screen shot this one for you) and that #9 seems to be keeping true to her roots of “wtf” at my old job.

Here’s a rundown of what I saw in my phone on my break at new job.

Seamstress: #9 said if she eats Taco Bell she will be in the bathroom for days.
Me: She’s an oversharer. First day on the job;  I love serial killers. First day at new desk;  Taco Bell makes me run for the border – of the bathroom.
Seamstress: and she says “this shit is cray cray.”
Me:

New Girl: And her friend who just got hired here and #9 say “love you!!!” when they see each other.
Me: Like at the office?  In public?
Seamstress: Yes. …and yes.
Me:

Good to know nothing has changed in the 24 work hours since I left.

And Then Shit Got Serious….

Today is  my last day in the office. I start my new gig on Monday. Bosshole waved as he walked out yesterday – goodbye or good luck. Not even a bat of the eye, honestly. There wasn’t much fanfare for someone who worked with me for 13 years. But as a bonus, he did forget something at work and texted me to please bring it to him after my shift ended.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

But on to bigger news. I am on my way to being an adult, leaving my job of 13 years and starting a new one.

Know how I know? I just cleaned all my juiceboxes out of the work fridge and shoved them in  my bag. Adulthood, here I come.

…but I can bring a juicebox, right?

Introducing: My Replacement.

Well, my replacement is here at work. She was to be hired for another job, but when I put in my notice they offered her mine instead yesterday. Apparently she has no brain, as she said yes. So she’s job shadowing me the rest of the week. Yesterday, we decided we couldn’t call her New Girl since New Girl will always be New Girl. I had no idea how we would figure out a nickname for her so quickly. But never fear. I’ve established one.

She seems timid. And a bit overwhelmed. But maybe she’s just harnessing all of her energy. Because out of nowhere she whips around in her chair, as I’m on the phone and looks at New Girl and says: Do you know that you walk by 8-7 serial killers in your lifetime?

New girl stammers out an “uhhh…” and my replacement excitedly finishes her statement with “I love serial killers. I’m basically obsessed with them.”

While I can understand the allure of reading and learning about humans who are different than us? I would not share this on my first day. Before lunch. I hadn’t even had time to eat my peanut butter and jelly before I started to worry about my co-worker’s lives.

Allow me to introduce: Nine…..Because she could very well be the #9 serial killer I passed in my life.

Edit: My mother just asked me how things were going via text. When I explained how I am going to call her nine, she responded with: Is she sitting close to you. Don’t tell her where you live

Deuces!

So, this morning I resigned from my job. It went better than anticipated. I suppose it helps when it feels like your Bosshole, if able, would do backflips when you told him. Boss’ boss was sad and not at all mean, which helps, too. The best part of it all is the responses from the people around me. My day, at work, has been filled with fist bumps and high fives. People are happy for me. My friends and family are even better.

Here are a few responses from an email to a group of friends:

And then there’s this one, from my group chat with SnarkSibling and SnarkyMom. I love that my mother had to tell me she and my dead father are proud of me. And that she had to use all caps to express her joy.

And then we have jokes for days Jester, who thinks he’s hilarious. Okay, fine. He is.

Fellow co-worker, affectionately (or actually annoyingly) called “work boyfriend” by fellow coworkers sent me this one:

And then the ever present and wonderful Bestie. 

I have been sad to say goodbye to sharing an office with New Girl, Seamstress, and Blondie. They are the perk that makes coming to work enjoyable. But don’t worry, New Girl left me with another little nugget of wisdom.

NG: I’m sad to see you go.
Me: Me too!
NG: We will have to stay in touch.
Me: Definitely, I will miss–
NG: That way you can hire me at your new place if you really like it, because it sounds like my dream job.
Me: Right. Yes.

You know you’re making a good decision when your friends, family, and co-workers are happy for you. And when your Bosshole doesn’t even blink an eye when you tell him. He had silent joy though. Trust me. Heh.

Lord Help Us.

We have a trainer here at work. I’ve been looking forward to learning from him. Fast-forward to today. I am looking forward to him leaving.

Before he left our office a few minutes ago….

Trainer: Tomorrow we will role play.
Me: You didn’t even buy me dinner and  movie first.
New Girl: Heh. Heh. Role Play.

I’m afraid she’s going to show up in all leather tomorrow, guys.

Interpretation not to scale

It’s Not A Secret Any Longer….

Best thing to happen thus far today:

Blondie and I are working, Seamstress isn’t in yet for the day.
Bosshole has left for another location.
Suddenly we hear New Girl yell.

“Noooo. Guys. No!”

Blondie and I turn around quickly. I don’t know what we could have imagined was happening. Someone was breaking into our big glass window wall? Santa came early and she was on the naughty list? A typhoon was headed our way? Lightning was about to strike? A gaggle of midgets were headed at us with pitchforks and lanterns?

It was much less dramatic.

Me: What?!

New Girl: He blocked it!

Me: What?

New Girl: Victoria’s Secret. Bosshole blocked it.

I went over to her desk and looked. And yes. She’s correct. I also couldn’t stop laughing.

It may be Victoria’s Secret. But it isn’t New Girl’s anymore. He’s onto her.