I love days like this, when all the major bosses (my direct supervisor, the two owners) are out of the office. I can dilly AND dally, fiddle AND fart, and pretty much do whatever I please instead of trying my damndest to look busy.
I just called my school to ensure that they had received my transcripts. Turns out they received them in May -- how's that for procrastination? Now I have to call to get them evaluated (which, for some reason, isn't automatic) to ensure that I can graduate at the end of the year. I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do once
I am 86% positive that two of my coworkers are having an affair. I walked in on them in the kitchen and the lights were off and they looked to be coming out of an embrace and I transferred a call to the girl from the boy, which I usually do without making it so they have to talk to me first to get to the call, and she picked up the phone when I was to announce him and said something very flirty. I was like, "Um...hang on." The juicy thing of it is, he's married and has two kids. Which isn't juicy necessarily -- more disgusting, really. Plus, he's a giant asshole. I'm probably just making things up in my head to distract myself from the humdrum and the doldrums of the office life, but it's working.
I've been trying to find the root of a recent artistic trend -- that of multiple personality disorder as a plot twist. Recent films that have used this disorder as an easy-out for plots that make no sense include Secret Window and Identity. I struggled to find the root of the trend and, though the original movie to feature the disease was 1957's "Lizzie," it did not become as an expected plot maneuver until recently. Since the release of Chuck Palahniuk's "Fight Club," both the book and the movie propelled the trend such that it has become cliche. Dear Chuck Palahniuk: Please write a new book that chronicles some other life-altering disorder. I'm sick of this one. Love, Morgan.
one year ago today: nothin.
two years ago today: nothin.
three years ago today: nothin