Two Clicks from Crazy - Part II

I was barrelling down I-40 West when I felt IT.

I was shaking. I checked the heater, which was working fine. Then I realized that I wasn't cold.

I was shaking on the inside, and didn't really know why.

My head was woozy, my eyes felt sand-filled.

I must've driven a good twenty miles before it hit me: I had ingested three cups of coffee for breakfast. Period. No toast, no cereal, no Oatmeal Square. Just coffee.

Naturally, the highway traffic immediately hit "pause", and all surrounding cars came to a screeching halt. For no particular reason. No rain, no snow, no sleet. No car accidents. No random body parts strewn aimlessly across the highway.

The clock now read 7:37 am.

I didn't believe it.

After twelve miles of torturous highway crawling, the bottleneck burst. Traffic resumed normal to above speed movement. I finally arrived at my office at 8:14 am.

I threw my shoulder duffel onto my desk and made a beeline for the Facilities.

In spite of walking quietly, many co-workers (Hack Boy, Fart Man, Sugar Britches and The Whiner) all realized that I was IN. They promptly began shoving paperwork, blue prints, spreadsheets and service orders my way.

I marched through the crowd, hands heavenward. I slammed in to the ladies room, nearly hitting Giggling Manic Woman square in the face. She squeeked out a nervous giggle and ran out around me. I shrugged and ran into the nearest stall.

I was soon at my desk, processing random crap. Truth be told, I am a magnet for random deritus that floats through the office on a daily basis: I am The Fixer.

The Fixing, on ocassion, entails telling people to absolutely get over themselves.

This honesty is generally met with varying degress of anger, and absolute degrees of contempt.

It was obvious that I was In No Mood to deal with attitude. It didn't matter; four minutes into processing He showed up. He of such a foul nature that most people simply call him The Ba----d. I call him Curse, as that is what he makes me want to do most often.

I digress.

Again, four minutes into my paperwork, he appeared. He snarled, swore, and slammed a stack of paper onto my desk. "Do yew call this paperwork?!", he screamed and snarled. "Jest whut the *_@& kind of information is this?!"

I calmly reached over, grabbed the stack, and tore it to shreds.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it paperwork," I answered. "I'd call it a pile of shredded crap you left on my desk. If you don't reach to pick it up now, it's sure to get worse."

He swore again, snatched the remains, and stormed off. There were rumblings of calling the Big Boss to tell on me. Yeah. Like that's never happened before...

I inhaled, exhaled, and re-thought my day. I sent two of my three immediate employees to the Conference Room for a Meeting. (In my department, "Meeting" equals "Nap".) In the mean time, I located out of date files and threw a stack away. Then I colored floor plans for thirty minutes. With crayons.

My day took a sharp turn UP during lunch, as I escaped and ranted to Tiff. Mid rant, she calmly asked why I continued to work at Destrukto. It was chaotic, maddening, stressful. I stopped, thought, and answered honestly.

"Because I would be bored to tears if I worked anywhere else."

If that isn't crazy, I'm not sure what is.