mid-day anonymous, when guns find their purpose.


dear internet, i am feeling like shit about many aspects of my life right now, but the one i would like to enlighten you all on is my haircut. holy shit, i have not given myself a haircut this bad in years and years. for the past 6 years or so i’ve been pretty good at cutting my own hair (the first 2 years of self-haircutting were pretty bad), and even when i didn’t get the intended result it still looked decent. not this time. HOLY SHIT, do i look bad. in a few weeks i think it will have grown out to something decently cute, but not in time for my quick little jaunt to new york next week! all my new york friends and family will think i’ve gone to seed in pittsburgh. oh well. i mean, usually i don’t care, but this is really bringing me down for some reason. i nearly wept about it on monday. what the fuck? i hate feeling this shallow, but i can’t help myself sometimes.
on a lighter note, here are two amazing things that happened at work this week, one from each job.
job #1: i was sitting at my desk, writing a letter to a prisoner, when my boss called me from his office. usually when he calls me from his office it’s for some incredibly petty reason, so i rolled my eyes and answered it. instead, i was pleasantly surprised: “who,” he asked me, in his dignified oratory style, “is marilyn manson?” i laughed and told him.
later i was in his office doing work. “why did you want to know who marilyn manson is?” i asked. mark, another lawyer who works there (who is middle-aged, pony-tailed, unshowered and manic-depressive, in a manic upswing that day), went on this huge speech that basically boiled down to: “i was at a club with my buddy the other day, and i saw Judge _______, and he was dressed like marilyn manson! and i tried to explain it to [my boss], but he didn’t get it, because like, i’m an old guy, so i figured you’d be able to explain it better.”
“no wonder we lost our case before him!” sniffed my boss. “mark knows all of his secrets!”

job #2: so i call people and try to get them to take non-profit research surveys. in this day & age of caller ID, that means i listen to approximately one hundred outgoing voice mails every day. 80% of these are robots; the other 19% are generic messages. and then there’s that 1% of interesting “OGM”s (as we call them in the biz.) yesterday i got this AMAZING one, recorded by a very put-upon-sounding man (names have been altered slightly):
“hello, you’ve reached the home of stephen the boss, pavlinska the queen, and igor the slave. please leave a message.” i laughed and laughed and felt slightly better about my cubicle-ridden existence. (i know s&m/non-conventional relationships are not really laughing matter, but you have no idea how boring this job is [unless you’ve worked there, or somewhere similar])

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