Monday, January 22, 2007


As some of you may have noticed, I don’t talk about my job around here. There are several reasons for that but the most important one is because I want to keep it. I would have a very hard time paying my bills if I didn’t have this job. And I’m pretty sure being unemployed would seriously screw up my ability to party, and lord knows we can’t have that happening. But today I am going to make a tiny exception. I feel the need to bitch.

I have a co-worker; let’s call him Mr. Blob, who gets paid the same amount of money I do every month to sit on his fat ass and play solitaire. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t even try and hide it. If you walk by his office you can clearly see his computer monitor and nine times out of ten he is in the midst of a heated game of solitaire. He has been playing the game ever since he started working here two years ago. I don’t understand why he’s not sick of it. I’m sick of it.

Part of me feels like telling the boss lady, but A – I’m pretty sure she already knows, and B – I'm no tattle-tail. Besides, everybody goofs off at work from time to time. Still, I can’t help but feel like Mr. Blob’s blatant refusal to even pretend to look busy is negatively affecting morale. People see him doing absolutely nothing day after day and start to wonder why they are busting ass. And I, for one, can feel the resentment building when I think about him cashing his paycheck.

Obviously he must do some work, otherwise he’d be outta here, but he clearly does not believe in the motto of going “above and beyond the call of duty.” He is the living embodiment of doing just enough to get by. Nothing more. Nothing less. He drives me crazy.

I’ve thought about walking into his office sometime, mid-game, and asking him if he ever wins. Just to let him know I know and I’ve got my eye on him. But somehow I doubt I am much of a threat. I’m not the dude signing his paycheck. I also thought about trying to send an anonymous email to the entire staff asking everyone who has ever caught Mr. Blob playing solitaire to respond. But anonymous things never stay anonymous for long, and I don’t want to be “that girl,” if you know what I mean. So suffer in silence .

Maybe I should introduce him to blogging.