ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

What a Day I'm Having (A Glimpse into the Life of That One Guy At Work)

Updated on September 18, 2011

I Barely Have Time for This

If I seem hurried in the writing of this article, it's just that this ridiculous computer's been acting up and I keep losing saved copies of my drafts. The other day, this guy I know, Billy, made some absurd joke right when I was sipping my Barq's, and wouldn't you know it, I dribbled on the right side of the keyboard. He's always making me mess up. My mother told me that Billy's the cause of all my troubles, and I'm starting to think it's true. A week ago, I got a speeding ticket because Billy didn't tell me the exit was coming up. I missed it because he was yapping about his girlfriend Trish, and then I had to hurry to Exit 47 so I could backtrack. Wouldn't you know it? Right into a speed trap. Anyway, you get the point. My mother should have told me years ago about Billy, but she's always thinking about herself. She's been like that my whole life. I never had the kind of snacks in the house that I wanted. She just bought Vanilla Wafers. I didn't even get a car until I had been working for a year at my lousy corporate job. I thought parents were supposed to care, but I guess not.

TGIF

Speaking of jobs, Friday couldn't come fast enough this week. My boss chewed me out for being late with a D505 report. I told him it wasn't important or anything, but he's all over me. It's just one report. I mean, I didn't even have time to do it, because I was late that day, anyway. I-95 was bumper to bumper, and what was I supposed to do, come to work without showering? I've been trying to eat Special K in the morning, and he's on my back when my health's at stake. I just think that's despicable. I need another job, but who's got the time to go looking? Applications and resumes and all that. I got yelled at for making copies of my resume at work, so I'm not even going to bother anymore.

Everyone I work with gets under my skin. They're all "good morning" this and "how you doing" that. It's eight o'clock in the morning. How do they think I'm doing? Every time they start blabbing, they're distracting me. I'm sick of it. I'd report all of them if it weren't for the fact that my boss is the worst one of all. When he's not talking to me about reports, he's always asking about how my parents and my brothers are doing. People are all in my business. I wish I worked with professionals.

I Wish I Had It So Easy

Getting back home is impossible. I have to tailgate all the way home because of all these slow drivers out there. My garage is full of my stuff from UNH, because my father won't let me keep the boxes in his basement anymore. So I have to park in the driveway, which the old owners never paved, and I have to twist my ankle on the gravel because they didn't cough up the dough. I swear. Some people don't know how to take care of their property. It's almost as if they messed up this house on purpose.

You'd think I could get something done when I got home, at least, but my dog Max makes it impossible for me to cook dinner or clean the house. He's always underfoot. As soon as I even go near the vacuum, he's all "take me for a walk" or "I gotta pee." That's why I end up getting Taco Bell on the way home every night. I've gained at least thirty pounds in the last year because of my dog. What am I supposed to do? Let him go pee on the carpet? He's my responsibility, after all. If you don't have a dog, you just don't know. You can't just let him pee on the carpet.

You're Kidding Me

So, yesterday, this guy Eddie I knew from high school somehow or other found me on Facebook. It seems like so many people I don't hang around with anymore keep finding me there. I have no privacy. Anyway, I guess my class reunion's coming up and they're trying to do something at that sad hotel downtown. I don't know why they can't pick a fancier place. I didn't even bother going to the senior prom back in school because they refused to sell the tickets during 3rd lunch, but from what I hear, even that dance was at a nicer place. So, Eddie messages me the where and the when for this reunion, but the message got cut off or something and I still don't know the exact day. I swear. It was almost as if he didn't want me to go. Whatever. See if I write him back. The guys from my school are to blame for my drinking problem, anyway. Now they want me to go to some ridiculous reunion in a cheap hotel. Unbelievable.

We're A Lot Alike

All right, so before this computer decides to shut down on me, I'm going to sign off. I've got a whole week of work to look forward to, and my car's in the shop. Last time I had it in, the mechanic didn't bother telling me that the transmission was almost shot. I feel like asking the guy what he actually does for a living. There's a carpool to work from my neighborhood, but I've been uninvited, because no one told me there was a rule against eating on the ride, so I left half an egg sandwich under the seat for a week or so. All my extra cash lately is going towards making amends to Uncle Sam, so I can't buy a new car. Every year it's the same thing. Like I'm supposed to remember some date in April. I don't know why my mother never reminds me about my taxes.

Anyway, let me know if you get where I'm coming from on all this. I feel pretty good about this article, and if I had to guess, I'd say it's entirely possible that you and I have a lot in common. I really seem to connect with most people these days. I guess I'm just a people person.

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • shogan profile imageAUTHOR

      shogan 

      7 years ago from New England

      I knew you'd appreciate it, Twilight Lawns. I just knew it. Hopefully, you sensed my social commentary, too?

    • Twilight Lawns profile image

      Twilight Lawns 

      7 years ago from Norbury-sur-Mer, Surrey, England. U.K.

      Thank you. That was deliciously depressing. You're not related to my friend Allan, are you? You seem to be singing from the same hymn sheet. Dogs are bastarards, though, aren't they. First they want to go out; then they want to be fed; then they want to have a pee. Want, want, want.

    working

    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, hubpages.com uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at: https://hubpages.com/privacy-policy#gdpr

    Show Details
    Necessary
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the googleapis.com or gstatic.com domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Features
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Marketing
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Statistics
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)