It's cold! It's damn cold!
2004-02-24 - 3:49 p.m.
I like to think I'm fairly circumspect in this diary. I try to not write negative things that are going to come back and bite me in the ass, and one of my most dearly-held rules is never write anything about work. But kids, I'm breaking my silence.
I don't actually work in an office. I work in a freaking ice palace. An ice palace of pain, where cold air blows down upon me. I've been sick with a lingering head cold ever since I returned from England, and every day I have to sit in my goddamn igloo makes me think longingly of picketing and worker's comp.
Over the weekend they were supposed to fix the open air duct that literally blew cold air directly upon me. True, now there is no cold air creating a sylph-like wind about me, but the heater for the whole building is "not working at full speed." Jesus H. Christ, we could get my grandmother riding an exercise bike linked up to some thingamajiggie and she'd generate more heat than what I'm getting now. I'm sitting here with my coat buttoned up and a blanket wrapped around my lap. I ask you, is this any way to create positive morale in the workplace?
Maybe they think we'll be too cold to complain. However, as my dearest of husbands can attest, my complaint ability swiftly rises in response to any sort of physical discomfort, most notably cold and hunger. It's a goddamn good thing for these people that I've been polishing off my bag of dried pineapple chunks throughout the day, or I might just paint my own goddamn picket sign and stand out in the street. I know two or three people who'd join me, at that. By marching up and down and screaming, maybe we'd be able to restore some feeling to our feet.
The heat better be fixed tomorrow, or they can just say hello to my lil fren.* **
*as in Scarface
**realistically, this would not mean that I will shoot up my workplace, but rather that I will continue to bitch to my coworkers and write about the lack of heat here. Although jesus, if I shot them they'd probably thank me for the warmth of the goddamn bullet.
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