It's True...

I am leaving my adored position and company. Are you shocked? Because no one in my office seemed to be. Including my boss. Shall I tell you the story of how my boss finagled my notice out of me? Yes. I shall.

Let's set the scene: My "office" is a room with 2 cubicles in it, but I sit alone. The other cubicle is used for stuff people don't know what to do with: old meeting posters, magnetic business card holders, a fleece blanket with a misspelled program name. My office/cubicle room is full of defective, useless and unwanted items (metaphor). I face the wall and one of my cubicle walls obstructs my view of the door, so often, when I'm quite engrossed in a dramatic episode of Gossip Girl, I will not hear when someone comes in. It just so happens, the day my boss heard I was leaving (from an unknown [i.e. known, but un-admitted- dR@m@!] source), I was watching a VERY dramatic episode of ABC's Once Upon A Time (I started running out of shows to watch on Hulu, leave me alone... it's good... ish).

Boss: Hey, Anika.

[Papers fly, cups are knocked over, my keyboard crashes as I attempt to pause my show and pull up my email so I look like I'm doing something, even though my last email was from a week before. I'm sweating before I've even said anything. I sweat a lot. I'm looking into treatments.]

Anika: Hey, M*ke. (For security reasons, I've hidden my boss's name.)

Boss: So rumor has it you're leaving us.

[20-30 seconds of silence.]

Anika: I am.

I then proceed to ramble on about how I'm going to save the world and become president or something, while he examines my collection of CVS hand lotions and birthday cards on my desk shelf, obviously very engrossed in my future endeavors. For some reason, I have the urge to stand up and shake his hand thinking this would make the situation less awkward and more official. I pump-fake-stand-up a couple times but then resolve that a hand shake would do nothing but make this encounter more awkward. After lengthy spells of anxious silences, he leaves me, confused and sweaty, wondering how, WHY, this just happened.

Don't worry. It gets more awkward.

A few days after giving my official notice, we had our staff meeting. My co-worker warned me ahead of time that our boss would most likely say something about my upcoming departure. Fine. I can deal with this. It just so happens that at this staff meeting some employees were being presented with gift certificates for being nominated for several office-wide awards (no, I didn't get one, don't ask me why). In the middle of this presentation, M*ke accidentally advanced the slides. Up popped a slide titled "Good-bye, Anika!" laden with a phenomenal picture of me and a graphic of some office-type people holding a banner that says "ADIEU!" A snicker erupted from the crowd (I would've preferred a cry of anguish or a collective pained sigh, but whatever) and M*ke noticed his mistake. He proceeded to flicker back and forth between that slide and the one he was supposed to be on, quite amused with himself.

Finally, my good-bye portion arrived. He announced my departure and described (somewhat accurately) what I was moving on to do. He continued on for approximately 2-3 minutes (my picture still displayed on the screen) with a speech about how it takes a special and brave person to make a major life change and that I would most certainly have a position here when I return. Then, for the next 5-10 minutes, he began discussing the "ADIEU" clip art graphic on the slide, relating each frumpy, office-y character in the graphic to our group (my picture still displayed).

All in all, this experience could have been worse (right?....right?). But I am leaving. The question in your mind must be this: What kinds of sweat treatments are you looking into? JK. (But honestly, I'm not looking into any, I'm just hoping it'll go away. It's how I deal with most of my problems.) The real question is: What will happen to this beloved blog? Answer: I don't know, but I'll let you know when I figure it out. Submissions for other "On a"-ka titles welcomed.

My Boss

This is a character profile on the Country's Most Awkward Boss (I say country and not world because I bet Kim Jong-Un would be an awkward boss and I would also guess there are some pretty awkward bosses in Japan. I bet Asian bosses in general are pretty awkward. Perhaps this could be Western Hemisphere's Most Awkward Boss?).

Physical Description:
   Height- 6'3
   Weight- 255.4 lbs (I know this because he partakes in the office's Biggest Loser competition and posts his current weight and weight goals on the door of his office. He has lost 14 lbs since January and gained my admiration for the first time in 15 months)
   Eyes- Bulgy. Penetrating. Stare-y. Blank. Bulgy.

General Business Day Schedule:
   Arrives- 10:30
   Leaves for Lunch- 12:10
   Returns from Lunch- 1:25
   Leaves for the Day- 4:05

Preferred Schedule:
   Scheduled Dental Appointment in the Morning (i.e. Day Off)
   Golf

Likes:
    Turkey sandwiches
    His pug
    Making people feel uncomfortable
    Villanova
    White board visual aids
    Clapping

Dislikes:
    Doing work
    Stapling things
    Opening mail
    Back flips (this is just a guess)

Awkward Tactics:
   Not Speaking When Spoken To
       Ex: "Heyyyy Anika. How's it going?"
             "Oh you know, just another Tuesday..."
             Silence. Staring with bulging, blank eyes.
             "Heh, just getting my coffee! What would I do without it, right?"
             Bulgy eyes.
              "What do you think of this coffee anyway? I'm not a big fan. People really love Keurig's, you know? But there's just something about the way the coffee tastes that isn't right. Sometimes I'd just prefer a nicely brewed pot, like the good ol' days. Anyway, there's always Starbucks!"
              More silence. (Just wait until he speaks, Anika. He's trying to get to you. MAINTAIN YOUR POSITION. Those eyes, they're so bulgy. They're staring into my soul, yet they're so.... blank. He knows my secrets. Did I put on deodorant this morning? HOLY COW JUST SAY SOMETHING AND RETREAT!)
             "Welp, back to the grindstone for me then, I guess..."
             "Alright. See ya, Anika."
 
   Asking What My Dad Thinks
        Ex: My Annual Review
             "So, that's why I think a team building workshop, preferably a ropes course, would be beneficial to our group."
             "Ok, great. Thanks, Anika... Do you ever talk to your dad about our company? What does he think?"
             "Um...... no?"
             Bulgy-eyed silence.
             "I mean, I talk to him occasionally about work, but not anything too specific."
             "Does he think we should have a team building workshop? Have you talked to him about it?"
             "What? I don't know. I've never asked him."
             Blank stare.
             "I'm not sure if he ever did workshops at his company. I suppose he did? Probably not a ropes course... I'm really not sure."
             Silence.
             "No....... I'm not sure what you....... No. No? No........ I'm sorry?"
             "...Alright. Next, what are your objectives for this year?"

I'll end with a quote I just heard from my co-worker as she passed by my office:
4:45 PM on a Wednesday: "Why are there so many people here? It's 5:00!"

I Could Have a Boyfriend If I Tried.

February 14th. Just the day when enough time has passed that you've lost the blissful happiness of the holidays, you've finally realized you're not going to keep your New Year's resolutions, and you've gained a hearty 7 lbs because you have actually worked out less, drank more, and gained 0 new friends (which everyone knows makes you eat more because you're eating by yourself but eating for two because making a meal for one is too disappointing). In other words, you're depressed as fuck. Why not throw a Hallmark holiday on top to remind you that you are one of many that will eat a candle-less, rose-less, chocolate-less dinner in front of the mirror again? Knowing that all over the country (does Valentine's Day exist in other countries?) guys are getting it in and girls are being told "I love you" in the form of a stuffed bear in order for the former to happen.  

Today, is the #1 day of the year during which I avoid Facebook at all costs. Forgetting the date, I reported in to my beloved Book this morning and was slapped in the face with about 4.6 million muploads of roses, bears, candies, and balloons with captions like, "MY GUY IS THE GREATEST" or, "Roses- check. Chocolate- check. Best Boyfriend in the WORLD- check!!!!!!!!!" Eat a fart. Your boyfriend is a) probably boring and b) probably lacking in other areas because you find it necessary to reassure all of Facebook that your boyfriend cares enough to spend $10.99 on a stuffed bear that sings "My Girl" that you will throw away after way too long.

My one and only Valentine was from a (female) co-worker. It consisted of a Raspberry Hershey Kiss (obviously a late night Feb. 13 pick up from Target and all the other flavors were taken) with a small card depicting a smiling monkey on the inside saying, "You're wild!" It also included a tattoo of a monkey face which I promptly applied. Because of this tattoo, I'd say I've had a successful Valentine's Day so far.

When 5 o'clock rolls around, I am going to go home, make my dinner for two (i.e. get the ice cream out of the freezer), find a mirror, drink a bottle of $5 red wine, and watch Fivel Goes West. Happy Valentine's Day, me.

That Woman in the Office

Everyone knows That Woman. She's overweight, she dresses like she's in the 1990s in rural West Virginia, no one knows quite what she does, and she drives a scooter around the office. Every office has her, right? I felt a great need to write about That Woman because I just passed by her office and through her cracked door (adorned with an uplifting comic and a sickeningly sweet picture of a dog and a kitten getting along way too well) I see her, head down on the desk, sleeping. I don't think this would be an acceptable practice in any other office except for mine. What really irks me is that she is bold enough to keep her door cracked, daring you to catch her, taunting you with her ability to nap under the fluorescent lights and on a desk full of plaques with quirky quotes and bobble head cats. Do I despise her or, dare I say, admire her? I would also like to point out that my organization recently made some pretty drastic layoffs in the past month. How did she make this cut? Better question, what were these other people doing that did not make the cut? I get it, with budget cuts and what not there is not a lot of work going around the office. I've watched every episode of Downton Abbey (even the unreleased second season). Trust me. I get it. But sleeping? SLEEPING? And getting PAID? I come in at 10:00 AM and no one notices. There are better places to sleep. At least, for Pete's sake, close the door so I don't have to be reminded that when I am laid off, you will still be here, scootering into your office with your giant translucent frame 1983 glasses and blatantly sleeping on your desk contributing nothing more to this company than your snide comments about the "slutty" attire of the office females (true story). I wore an over-sized sweater and giant scarf today, thank you very much. I'm sorry I don't own elastic waisted denim. I'll get on that right after I finish these 2 episodes of 30 Rock, catch up on the latest posts on Facebook and watch 3 more versions of Sh*t People Say. Sleeping and getting paid... terrible.

Recent Wikipedia Searches

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Top 100 Songs of 1988
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Beer Me a Kleenex.

Being sick at work may be God's way of reminding us that we have sinned. It may be worse than water boarding, but I really can't say. Maybe we should subject suspected terrorists to the swine flu then have them sit at a desk with nothing to do but look at an Inbox with no new messages and chug Emergen-C in the hope that the vitamin attack will make them feel better, but it won't, it just won't. Then maybe they'll tell their secrets. Or just tickle the secrets out of them. Who likes being tickled? No one.

Anyway, I hate being sick in the office. Everyone looks at me and thinks "Does she know that her glasses are incredibly crooked? And why is her face so blotchy? Why is she mouth breathing so aggressively? She is a disgusting human being." They're all thinking that I know it. And yes, I know my glasses are crooked. I sat on them. Thanks for reminding me. I want to talk to no one, yet I'm constantly waiting for someone to come and talk to me. And when they do, all I want is for them to leave. And when they leave, I want them back. Apparently, not only are my sinuses off kilter, so are my emotions. Not even my favorite YouTube videos can make this hazy feeling and awkward sweaty coldness go away: drinking out of cups just makes me feel more confused; grape lady makes my head (and feet?) pound; The slow Loris just makes me want to go back to bed. IS THERE NO MERCY?? US enemies would never be able to survive these conditions.

I find solace only in the knowledge that I did not have to pay for these tissues I'm rifling through and the fact that in a mere 2 hours I will be able to leave this place of misery and crawl into my bed with a box of stolen tissues and dream of a day when I can breathe through my nose again. America: the land where dreams come true.
Amen.