Embracing The Suck – Moving
Hi. How the hell are you? Great, great. Me? Let’s just say I’ve had better weeks. Today, Rants Army, I’ll regale you with the sordid tale of what has kept me from actually doing any work this week. In general, you all know it as “moving.” Unlike many of my previous posts’ themes, this one has absolutely no bearing on porcelain. At least not directly.
I used the word ‘sordid’ on purpose, because the backstory to this is the genesis of my anger. If you’ve ever read the book or used the title to deride someone or something, this little acre of hell is truly a Peyton Place. Nobody is ever content with what they have, and the assclownery goes down daily. Short story – someone liked our offices better than theirs. When their rank/influence failed to force us to move, fellatio, a taste for sodomy and other weaknesses were exploited.
I opposed all of this mightily using logic, then reason, then begging, then anger. In the end, I got invited to a facilities management meeting so that the Colonel in charge could publicly tell me: “Shut the fuck up and color,” without benefit of a witty retort.
Thus we color. Overall, this event turned out to be a draw in terms of awesomesauce vs. shit sandwich. A brief synopsis, if you will:
Toilets: WIN – On the upside, we upgraded on the toilet side because we now have eight to select from versus one. FAIL – the stalls, when closed, are approximately two inches from the lip of the bowl.
Office: WIN – Mine is bigger, cleaner and no longer shared. FAIL – The fuckwits who built the building clearly have no idea why caulking a window is a good thing, and the heater is only good for cycling through the de-ice cycle, and it’s winter.
Network: WIN – New server and IT infrastructure with less dust and dirt. FAIL – Said server keeps kicking in a port security algorhythm, which cuts my phone and access to
porn important regional news.
Commute: WIN – I have to walk my worthless fat ass farther to eat, thereby burning off some of my worthless fat in advance of meals. FAIL – I have to walk my worthless fat ass farther to eat, thereby raising my level of intolerance for those who like to clog the tiny bypasses in the mess hall as they gaze in window-licking wonderment into the soda cooler waiting for divine inspiration.
Productivity: WIN – Everyone gets a break from the grind while we tote our shit across Camp – motherfucking – Cupcake. Yay! FAIL – Something important didn’t get done, and important shit is important.
Overall, as noted, a draw. But really we all lose here, because ultimately this will cost the Army – and therefore you, Homey the Taxpayer – some money. So you musically-inclined readers can gin up a Real Men of Genius ode for this one. Make sure you mention two Colonels (neither one my boss) who, acting in their own self-righteous interests, managed to finesse this deal of the century at our expense. I should have known you were lying to be earlier, because A) your lips were moving, and B) your breath smelled like humid cock, you cocksucking cocksucker.