My Co-Workers are Scum

As I write this it occurs to me that I may be being a bit hypocritical. I was going to write a post about how my co-workers sit around talking all morning instead of working, leaving me to answer all the incoming loan calls....and here I am blogging instead of working.

Cest la vie.

Fuck it, they're still scum. Bunch of damn gossipy women talking about kids and bad husbands and how much work there is to do. For the last hour and a half, no joke, they've been sitting around one desk bitching, bitching and bitching some more while I answer call after call and playing catch-up with all the shit I didn't get done yesterday.

Am I bitter?

Oh yes. Bitter, cynical, jaded and depressed, but I still do my job.

And why is that? I like to believe it's some sort of Midwestern work ethic, but isn't that just guilt in disguise?

Wait a moment...they're talking about their asses now. Apparently they think they're too big, but it's not their fault. Really? Not your fault?

Put the donut down, honey, we need to talk. Now, I know you drink diet soda and eat no-fat pretzels. But if you drink six or seven a day and eat the entire bag of pretzels....well, you're still gonna get that big ass. And while a certain type of big ass is sexy, your cottage-cheese version is not. So put down the snacks, do some work, and maybe take a walk. Maybe your husband will want to fuck you then and you can relax, stop bitching, and get back to work, thereby making my life easier.

Ahhh. I feel better. Now all I have to do is muster up the courage to say these things out loud.


M. PotPie