Don't Be a Fly Baby

Though the nice, friendly, multi-tasking security guard has returned to Cube City, his rude substitute still provides intermittent coverage.

Blast it all.

I don't even make eye contact with the rude dude anymore. But late last week, when I was so not in the mood to take anybody's shit or look down when I wanted to look up, I stared back at the rude dude while in passing and said, "Have a lice day." I chuckled inside of myself. He probably didn't hear or understand me, though I tried to make myself loud and clear. I don't care. It just felt good to wish him a bunch of fly babies and be on my merry way.

Let's face it, cube dwellers: Sometimes, the only joy we have is in making subtle insults to mean people who suck. What's your favorite subtle insult?

Zero Side Effects

I used to work with a woman in a very well-established Cube City where water-cooler talk was to be kept on the down low. Don't be too friendly. Don't get to know your co-workers. Don't fraternize with them or gain insights about their souls or anything. Try to be as miserable as possible all day long with as little human interaction as possible, and try not to leave your cubicle for more than a potty break every four hours.

But Marilyn was a rule breaker, and I liked her. She would drop by to say hello and shoot the breeze. She didn't look fearfully over her shoulder either, like she was about to be busted for drugs or a flask in her purse or anything. She was Marilyn, and she did her own thing.

One day, Marilyn and I talked about how boring that Cube City was, and how we needed to get the hell out of there before our souls were forever crushed beneath the oppressive rubble of an established company with too many rules. We talked and talked and talked.

Then I took a swig of my Coke Zero, and Marilyn was crushed.

"Girl, " she said, "that stuff will kill you."

I explained that I'm a Coke addict, and that I'd drink the Real Thing all day long if I could still fit into my pants by the end of the day. We've both tried diet sodas with the complete inability to acquire a taste for them. So when Coke Zero came along and didn't taste quite as obviously repulsive as most diet sodas, it almost seemed like a compromise that we could both handle. But then Marilyn then told me of all the side effects she'd had from drinking Coke Zero:

• Heart palpitations/racing sensations
• Massive, stabbing headaches -- mostly in the left temple area
• Diarrhea (TMI, Marilyn. T-M-I.)

Marilyn urged me to stop drinking Coke Zero and to just buy bigger pants because the Real Thing was probably better for me in the long run than the Zero.

I appreciated Marilyn's insights but didn't feel like I was having a problem with Coke Zero, so I just kept drinking the poison.

About five weeks later, I started experiencing Zero side effects. All of them. It was creepy. So I took myself off Coke Zero, and it was hell on Earth for a very long time. I eventually started drinking the Real Thing again, and I occasionally have a Coke Zero when I'm craving a second real one in my work day. I've found that Coke Zero, in moderation rather than daily consumption, can be enjoyed without such bothersome side effects...but it's pretty scary what you learn when you mingle with the other cube dwellers.

What I should really do is save my water-cooler talk for that very purpose: the healthier consumption of H20.

Thanks for Nothing

This has been the longest week in Cube City. I know only two speeds in my current workplace: 90 or nothing. The speed this week has been a whole lot of nothing. It's nice to have a break now and then, despite the sinking feeling that you've run out of things to Google.

But when somebody finally asks me for something at 4:00 PM, after I've been fighting sleep all day with nothing to do, I feel a bit bothered. Please either slam me with work or don't bother.

Second Helpings

There are times when I'm in my own little world in Cube City. We all are. Recently, a project manager asked me why I sent her two copies of some website content: one copy that showed all the edits I made in yellow highlights and one that didn't.

I told her I didn't know how the client wanted to see the content and that I was used to providing both clean and marked-up versions for another client. She said, "You mean, you have a client who always wants to see both versions?"

I thought that was a good question. Why does someone want to see both? Wouldn't you want to either look at something marked up, to make sure I took your edits into consideration, or just start reviewing a clean document with no markups to influence you? Surely you don't finish one version and say, "Please, project manager, may I have some more?"

My response to the project manager was simple and logical: "Well, yes. I guess the writing is just THAT GOOD."

The Day the Music Died

Sigh. It's always depressing to drive into the parking garage of Cube City. Once I do that, my satellite radio goes dead. Bye-bye. There is music no more. This sets the tone of my work day. Such is the slice of my corporate American pie.

Site Paunch

Last week, a woman in Cube City sent me a hilarious misspelling via email. She wrote, "This won't be a factor because the site paunch is a month later."

Site paunch?

I know she meant launch instead of paunch, but it was one of the few entertaining moments of my day -- mostly because paunch made sense in that particular case. How often does that happen?

Cube Q&A: Firing People

Q: What options should I look into if my boss won't let me fire someone who reports to me in Cube City?

A: It sounds like nobody reports to you, dear cube dweller. Get over yourself. Maybe you should fire yourself by taking a different career path. That way, you won't have to manage the person you want to fire anymore. You also won't have to care that you are too much of a loser to be allowed to fire your own direct report.