I spilled an entire bowl of cereal on my keyboard at work this morning. But I dismantled it, separated the top and bottom parts out, and rinsed the top plastic part in the skin while the electronics remained totally unsoiled due to good product development.

Also I’m really impressed by myself because I think most people would have just bought a new keyboard. I’m not kidding when I say ENTIRE BOWL OF CEREAL in there.

Office Toby: If I put mail in the mailbox, will it be picked up today by the mailman?
Me: I mean… yeah… that’s how mail works.

Wut. B. scooted his chair over and looked at me out his office doorway with this incredulous look on his face after hearing the exchange, once Office Toby went back down the hallway. He didn’t even put the flag up on the mailbox. Really? How are you an adult human being.

Also, clearly he was abducted by aliens around early April of this year because this isn’t the same person as who I had a pretty good thing with all through February and March.

“Will you see if Samantha would mind depositing my paycheck [for me] on Friday?”

A R E Y O U S E R I O U S

I work in a company with a resounding 8 whole employees (including me), and I also work for another company that overlaps and has a whole 5 employees (three shared, and including me). tl;dr I work with a total of 10 people, at most. All of which are men.

The above quoted text came from an email that was forwarded to me by B. who is one shared employee between the two companies, from my own personal Toby Flenderson.

1. I introduce myself as Sam, I go as Sam, people look at me and they know that I am Sam, Sam I am. This person knows I generally don’t like being called Samantha, because I’ve told him. He does it anyway.

Sidebar: I find it fundamentally disrespectful to call someone a name other than what they request that you call them. It pisses me off. Someone I know always calls me “Sammie” when he texts me and I can’t fucking stand it. I have no problem with it other than the fact that I’ve said, “Please, call me Sam” about 25 [million] times. JFC.

2. Why isn’t this a question being asked to me directly? This coworker, whom many of you may remember as the artist formerly known as Office Jim almost a year ago when I was young and naive and still filled with hope, is the closest to me in age in the office. There’s no reason he should be asking someone else, who is superior to both of us, to ask me to do something for him. 

3. This is the second dumbest question I received from him today.

What a weakling. Can’t figure his own shit out, can’t even approach a single damn thing directly, and voted for Romney. It’s taken every fiber of my body and soul not to type some bitchy email back to him about how he’s fully capable of asking me himself to run an errand for him thank you very much.

But I’m strong and I decided to bitch on tumblr instead.