I would like to just…skip a station. Just every now and then. Just zoom my train right on through without alerting the passengers and then stop at the next one like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
What? It gets boring stopping at every single one.
(FTR when I was about 7 we were taught that song that goes ‘chirpy chirpy cheep’ which I took to be about a woman abandoning her young child. And also ‘Waterloo’ by Abba which I didn’t really understand at all. I have no idea why we were taught these songs as it was the mid-eighties. Tres confusing.
Since this is my last week here I’ve actually been doing this one. It feels so refreshing.
Years ago I worked in a clinical microbiology lab making and QCing plating media (stuff to grow bacteria on). This was a fairly dull and repetitive job. I gave in to the temptation to liven up my environment a little by streaking plates in decorative patterns so that when the bacteria grew there’d be lovely little pictures. With different colors even, depending upon the bacterium being cultured. I was quite amused. My supervisor, alas, was not. So much for my budding art aspirations.
I also gave in to a temptation to poke a co-worker with a disembodied leg. It was spectacular-he went straight up onto a waist-high bench.
But I resisted the temptation to punch the gas when I saw my boss in the crosswalk so I must have some willpower.
Read. I work in a bookstore. We’re not allowed to read while we’re supposed to be paying attention. No fun.
We are, thankfully, allowed one 'fuck off!" a year, to a customer. I have almost three years saved up, and I’m waiting for someone to be particularly rude to me this Christmas
I contemplate what I should throw into the deep fryer.
Thus far, I have deep fried (in addition to all the normal stuff):
Pickles
A cookie
Bacon
Batter dipped bacon
Batter dipped, bacon-wrapped, french fry
A salad (it’s lie the one thing even close to healthy on the menu, so I decided to make it unhealthy.)
Things I want to throw into the deep fryer, but haven’t worked up the nerve to:
The chocolate cake
The key lime pie
A steak
Various vegetables and fruits
Ice cream
I’d love to actually say out loud to some people that even though they found something on Google, it doesn’t mean our company sells the same thing for the same price. I’d also like to explain that I have no control over what Google might turn up in any given search. Moreover, I don’t have access to the billions of links they have to go in and search out that one link you want me to delete/modify.
Also, I’d love to get a PS3 on launch day to sell on eBay. Sadly, I can’t manipulate my own account to get one, what makes you think I can get one to you?
I’d also love to throw caution to the wind and add a few hundred in gift certificates to my account, but I hate jail even more than unemployment.
I work in a Chocolate Cafe. The Blue Mountains Chocolate Company Cafe. I am surrounded by an array of delicious chocolates, cakes and really nice food (we have an actual food menu as well) all damn day. You can see my temptation. My boss doesn’t help by saying ‘here, try this.’
I also work in an outdoor restaurant sort of a thing. My boss there loves the Big Chill sound track. It has the song ‘Good Lovin’’ on it. Yesterday, as with many other days, I gave in to the temptation to dance like a fool. It was brilliant; passersby, one guy in particular, walked by a few times to see if I was still dancing. I was.
I’m also very tempted to kill the owner of the restaurant premises.
After twelve years of working in a cleanroom, I can’t tell you how badly I want to do a strip tease in the middle of the area. It wouldn’t be pretty, as I’m not pretty. This is why engineers and techs are paid the big bucks–not because of our intellectual prowess, but to give us one good reason to not contaminate product with our thongs.
I have yet to write a report entirely in articles, conjunctions and TLAs, but it’s on my list.
I have however stretched out across a piece of equipment like it was a piano and sang “Puppy Love” in my best torch song voice. Hey, I was already sprawled out across the machine replacing a cable.
Not many temptations at work these days, other than the occassional “slap my co-worker” moments.
However, I used to work in a pharmacy…oh, Lord, talk about temptation. Never gave in, of course, but I was always wanting to take home some samples. Particularly when I was having a bad day.
I worked once in an older building in the city, with had a 10-storey internal staircase running up the core of the building. I was always fascinated by the question “if I got a superball, leant over the edge of the top rail of the staircase and dropped it straight down, how far would it bounce back up?”
June 2000, the building was sold. Everyone had evacuated and I hid in the old stationery room on floor 6, waiting until the whole building was still. I slid out into the stairwell and made my way up to the mezzanine above the 7th floor, where the it met the roof. I took the bright orange superball from my pocket and bid my heart be still. Precipitously, I leant over the rim of the rail, fearless knowing if I fell and died I would die in the pursuit of higher knowledge, extended my arm, and dropped the ball.
Down into the murk it fell. I heard the zing as it hit the tiles in the basement, and I caught sight of it as it began to ascend again. But something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. It was deviating, ever so slightly from the true course of a return to my hand… like a rocket toppled by Dr No, it veered off course and disappeared somewhere on the 4th floor.
I felt fufilled. I felt satisifed. I felt panic when I thought how the heck was I going to get out of the building?
When left my job at the Workers Compensation Board, I fulfilled a burning desire to sing over the intra-office PA. I warbled a few drunken lines of “Strangers In the Night” before a security guard threatened me with his nightstick.
