Reluctant Reunion

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!

Here we go.

After a lot of waiting, rumours, hiccups and hold-ups, our workplace is finally in the process of being amalgamated into one building now that enough office space has opened up in the main building to incorporate the staff from the smaller building.

This is good for communications, cutting down on shilly-shallying with resources and not having to hire a private detective to work out how to work out who has what stationery and why we never have any post-its.

This is bad for the sheer amount of drama it has stirred up.

As citizens of the smaller building, my coworkers and I have enjoyed a series of small separated offices complete with doors that close, a lunch area, better parking and a good half hour's warning before any of the higher ups turn up at our door.

Moving to the larger building we'll be working in an open plan office with our big building cousins, we'll have to share facilities and the battle lines are already being drawn.

Sides have been chosen and whining is in full effect.

How we're* going to arrange our desks.

How much space we get.

What we're going to do to those dirty big building-ers if they try to use our communal fridge.
It isn't our fault that our fridge is bigger than theirs and damned if we'll be giving up our glorious fridge space when we've already had to sacrifice our privacy blah blah blah blah.

Of course, it hasn't all been solidarity and morale-boosting group planning. The existing factions, sub-factions and incestuous semi-factions in our mini-splinter-workplace have continued their scheming against each other even as they've participated in the collective scheming to make sure we aren't done wrong by the outlanders**!

I have decided to take the high road*** and hope that everything eventually settles down.

If this manages to happen before a particular group - who don't seem to have realised that they've left high school way behind them and sound ridiculous bickering like teenagers - kill each other... Well that would be great.

Yes, I'm going to miss being able to close my door, especially when one particularly racist/homophobic/reality TV loving coworker gets going, but I've still got a job I enjoy and will NOT be joining the 'this is an outrage, we're being treated so poorly' self-indulgence of the drama llama crew.

Losing a water cooler isn't a contravention of any human rights treaties, you nitwits!

All that having been said... Please let this be over soon *sigh*.



*They take it as read that I am part of the 'we' collective, I am too apathetic to be an 'us' or a 'them'. I am the Switzerland of not giving a toss about office politics.

**Wait, we're the outlanders! What does that make the other guys? Inlanders just makes them sound like tax officials.

***Translation: wear headphones all the time and ignore everyone

Contentment Is The Fun-Killer...

Life has been so unbelievably boring since two of my best friends got boyfriends who treat them well.

That may sound cruel and slightly worrying to you but it wasn't until they met some boys who weren't social retards, raving emotional monsters or just plain old richard-heads that I realised exactly what percentage of our conversation time had been taken up discussing the latest transgressions, cries for dumpings to occur and general relationship faff.

But the thing is that all this lovey dovey contentedness has spilled over and affected other realms of conversation in unforeseen and annoying ways! One thing becomes 'good' and everything else is suddenly 'good' also!

Look I made you pie charts!

We have BEFORE*

And we have AFTER*


Verily there are other modes of conversation than getting really worked up about things and describing in exquisite detail exactly how you plan to kill everyone but seriously is that bitch who does the rosters any less of a bitch now that you are secure in the knowledge that your fella isn't out doing the dirty on you? I doubt it!
And if I sit there explaining in intricate detail the exciting backstabbing weirdo story of the week that has occurred at my workplace they react appropriately but it feels vaguely odd, like bitching to your Grandmother using hardcore swears and watching as she politely ignores the sassy language as any lady of a certain generation is wont to do...**

Even boring happily married friends natter about more, even if it is by way of what their lovely spouse did or what the lovely children did or what they're doing to their lovely house to make it more lovely...

I get the worrying feeling that they're all going to start talking about interior design and mortgages and the like and I'll be left sitting here with my comic book collection wondering when they all become so... parent-y...***

I'm glad they're happy, I approve of and like their fellas but I miss the intricately laid out plans for murder-death-killing...


*They get bigger if you click on them!

**Well not my Grandmother, my Grandmother's fun to bitch to, she suggests a smack upside the head for everyone! Equal opportunity flicks around the lughole!

***No I'm not sitting here with a twitching Peter Pan complex singing 'I don't want to grow up', I just don't want to grow... boring...