Day 2: Fortune Cookies

I like fortunes. Fortune cookies, not so much. For some reason every time I eat Chinese food, I take one bite of my fortune cookie, say "blech" and commence reading. Every. Time. Let's not bring up the oft-repeated definition of insanity at the moment.

There's a delicious Chinese food Restaurant accross the parking lot from blahdeeblah. To make a long story short, yesterday afternoon when I left, I had two inspiring little slips written in what appears to be Microsoft Sans Serif font taped onto the bottom left of my monitor. They read as follows:

"You will obtain your goal if you maintain your course"
(Referring of course to my TOTALLY REALISTIC dreams of making $$$ for my art)

and

"Now is the best time for you to be spontaneous. Serendipity!"
(Isn't that cute? No douchebag, actually, it isn't.  It's depressing, as the most spontaneous part of my life is the daily arrangement of cookies into an aesthetically pleasing manner)

Come this morning, there were two more slips taped to the bottom right of my monitor, written in Calibri font which HAPPENS TO BE OUR DEFAULT FONT, by the way. Here they are:

Oh, before I share these, it is the important to note that the only other living beings that inhabit this office are
a. My Boss
b. Seven small fish

Alright, here they are:

"You will sell one of your pictures soon There is a sucker born every day"

and

"Man who go to bed with itchy behind Wake up with smelly fingers"

I'll let you be the judge of whether my boss or the fish would write with such impeccable grace and grammar, and take the time out of their daily lives to print, cut, and tape such gems onto my computer.

Sigh. I don't know where to begin with my scathing witticisms, so I'll just end it here.

Pity Me.

-The FOA

Hello

As an idealist, ambitious youth, I swore I would never, ever, ever, ever, work in an office. Ever. Nor would I prostitute my soul, inspiration, and well-being for money. Never, ever, ever. Isn't that cute.

Hello, my name is blahblah and I spend my days setting new records for longest Solitaire losing streak and fearing a future of secretary butt. Also, I stare at the photo cards my boss lets me sell out of the office. They're of baby animals and flowers (that's part of the prostituting my soul and inspiration part). On occasion, I interact with customers. The company and product shall remain nameless, but it has to do with elderly people with hearing loss. So, just to be clear, my job is to talk on the phone with people who can't hear. Here's a little snatchet (I make up words) of a typical conversation:


Ringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringringring

Hellllooo?

(chirrupy tone activated)
Hi, may I speak with soandso please?
                 
....Who?

Soandso.

Who is this?

This is BLAHBLAH calling from BLAHDEEBLAH

Who? Speak up, I can't hear on the phone!
            Dramatic Mental Aside: No effing duh.

(slowly and with impeccable enunciation)
This is BLAHBLAH calling from BLAHDEEBLAH

What? I can't HEAR you, speak LOUDER

I'M CALLING FROM BLAHDEEBLAH!!!
            (insert echoing laughter from my boss's office)

Hold on a minute, you're speaking too softly!!
BEEPBEEPFUMBLEFUMBLEBEEPBEEP
             dramatic aside: Ow.       
Now, who IS THIS?

THIS IS BLAHBLAH CAAALLLIIING FROM BLAAHHDEEEBLAHHHH!!!!! I'M CALLING TO CONFIRM YOUR APPOINTMENT TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No! I don't want any!
*click*

End Scene.

Yeah. Welcome to a day in the life of an F.O.A.
(Front Office Assistant)

-The FOA