E'rbody got they cup but they ain't chipped in
Lunedi Tricolore
1) So this dread/anxiety/hate spiral about my awful motherfuckin Day Job continues even though I ain't been there since late October (October 25, to be exact) and am not required to report back to it until March something-or-other, and it manifests in strange ways. Such as: A very very long, realistic and detailed dream about being on the project team for a "new concept in coffeetailing" my company is launching, called "Fisticups." A direct competitor out to "seize market share from Starbucks," it's a coffee house aimed at the 18-to-49 male demographic, where you can, you know, buy coffee and coffee accessories, but instead of "Starbucks' more traditionally female 'soft' palette and entertainment options," you get to watch a neverending stream of fights on the big screen (boxing, MMA, etc., matches in real time, plus fight scenes from movies, TV and YouTube). My boss and I were having a bizarre passive-aggressive argument over email with DOZENS of cc's and bcc's (as is our real-life wont) about the chain's tagline -- should it be "Coffee for men," "A manly place for coffee," or (my suggestion) "Kickass coffee"? Also he had "tasked" me with "owning the rights-availability space" to all the fights and clip scenes the chain would use (CAN YOU IMAGINE); he wrote in an email (cc'd to our mutual grand- and great-grand-bosses) that he thought "it shouldn't take much of [your] time," and that finding a "cash-outflow negative" (i.e. "free") way to do it would be "really beneficial around your development plan," plus "a really exciting way the broader team can leverage your talents to the benefit of the team and the company as a whole." KILL ME NOW.
2) The only people who own JetSkis are Kenny Powers and total douchebag econ/banking/financial guys. This is, btw, a conclusion I drew from watching several hours of House Hunters International the other day.
3) Speaking of which: Why are the places they look at on House Hunters International always such total, utter shitholes? I know it's Europe and they don't have normal goddamn toilets or showers, that's a given -- but so many of these joints are actual, literal piles of rocks, with all the amenities of a Delta AirBus and the interior decor stylings of a Soviet Bloc gynecologist's waiting room. Really puts a girl off of her fantasies of living abroad, dammit.
Labels: cubejammin', first-world problems, fuckyeahstevenslater, rando, surprises in the attic
posted by Gleemonex at 9:29 AM
3 Comments:
Living abroad isn't all unicorns and rainbows. I lived in Germany for six years. Three of my places were horrid. One was awesome, although I would have liked a larger kitchen and bathroom. Some of the newer places are nicer than the older places. My friends have a gorgeous house. But then again, no one in Europe believes in air conditioning, screens or clothes dryers, so there's that against it...
As far as #1 goes...I have NO idea how you do it. Particularly someone so seemingly un-corporate and in-your-face. Such babble and passive aggression would reduce me to a useless blob of jelly. I did the corporate gig for exactly six months years ago, and I couldn't escape more quickly if I had tried. (And believe me, they were happy to see me go, too.) So: major props to you.
re: #2 - you forgot cops. Ponch and John would be all over that shit. Plus, apparently, our former cop houseowner.
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