Jesus fucking Christ. We are in the middle of cubicle radio wars over here. On one side, we have my next-door cube mate, playing churchy, “The Lord is my Savior” music (“Praise Him! Praise Him!”), which he just turned up the volume on and
is singing along with. Across the aisle, in the cube directly across from him, the cute little twenty-something started the morning playing bagpipe music and has moved on to some morning radio show, and behind her, the admin assistant for our department has her radio playing Stevie Wonder (who I fully admit I am partial to, but I can’t fucking hear it over the cacophony of cacophonous fucking noise in between).
Fucking hell. I so need my own fucking office. I feel like my head is going to explode.
Al Swearengen: Sometimes I wish we could just hit 'em over the head, rob 'em, and throw their bodies in the creek.
Cy Tolliver: But that would be wrong.
- courtesy of Deadwood, quite possibly the foulest fucking foulmouths on television. Fuck yeah!
I have no meetings scheduled for tomorrow and see no reason why I can’t work from home. I’m just saying, is all.
2 comments:
Do people believe in ipods or, at least, headphones anymore? Can't you write a new office policy that addresses the radio wars?
But then I would lose my leverage as far as "why I need to work from home." Do you see? Do you see?
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