Office Space.
A very entertaining movie for the employee who does not have to live that life. Earlier in my employment history I was completely uneffected by this movie. It was funny. Very funny.
Until this great and humerous movie became the story of my life.
I wake up every day and do the same thing...just like a routine that I live out. I wake up. (obviously!!!) Take my dog out, feed her, start my shower and do all that good stuff. Then comes the living nightmare. I drive....I drive very slow across 17.4 miles to the teat of highways 820 and 183. On my way I listen to the Lex and Terry morning show on 97.1 the Eagle. Until one morning...If any of you have seen Office Space you will know exactly how this works. I sit at a dead stop in one lane and the one next to me is moving nicely. I stick the nose of my car out and get into that lane. Then that lane stops. And the lane I was just in starts to move!!! AHHH the frustration of the scenario...but after changing lanes a few times I remembered this scene in the movie and could do nothing but laugh..or as my father would put it roflmgdmfao...use your imagination. I turned on the local rap station and blasted my beats for all of Bedford and Euless to enjoy.
My day from there goes the same over and over again. I have a routine at work...almost like an assembly line..I enjoy it but sometimes(and its usually on Mondays) I wish I was outside running or sweating or just being a boy. I love to be outside and putting my desk facing a window is just torture to me!!! But I do love to work. No matter what kind of work it is I will work outside in the freezing cold or in the blistering heat!!!
Im sorry for my pointless blog this evening but I hope you enjoyed it and could relate to it! Thanks for reading and I will be posting more frequently than I have been.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Well...let us start from the start..
Well, first let me thank you for logging on and coming to enjoy my new blog site. I started this after seeing a friend, distant uncle, and my own dad enjoying the "blogging". I saw it gay at first....almost as if it were an online diary for grown men who need a vent from their wives. Ha well I completely understand now that this is my new vent.
I have never understood why my God forsaken internet would never hook up correctly in my new apartment. I have done everything by the book and spent about 4 total hours on the phone with customer service representitives, speaking in their thick middle eastern accents, calling me sir at every breath they took. Kinda nice for once!! I might start calling just to talk to Hjjiahm or Sonjam again for that ittty bit of respect from someone you just dont know. Ha anyways...more about what makes me...ME.
I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico at a Presbyterian Hospital on July 9th, in the great year of 1990. I was raised all throughout Albuquerque in a Southern Baptist household with everything I could ever need. I never missed a meal and never went cold at night. My mother has held many jobs in my childhood that I can remember, anything from a certified massage therapist to a calligrapher. I remember one of her side jobs was building...yea I said building...Wedding cakes. She made the most beautiful and artistic cakes. I remember one cake...and only one cake that she had made because I got beat so bad that I just cant remember the rest!!!
It was sitting there on the table...... just staring at me..... "Hhhheeeeyyyyyy little Wesley.... commmmeerrrree"... as I approached the cake at the tiny age of 4, I knew I could be busted bad on this one... I took a step... then another.... Before I knew it I was there... chin high right up to that table staring at the designs on the side of the beautiful cake.... then it was like something I had never felt before... My arm was moving... My finger extending.... then... oh then.. the flavor.. I took my chubby little finger and dug all i could with that one little finger out of that beautiful cake.... no spanking, no grounding, nothing could have been done to me to make me sorry for tasting that delicious cake...until I saw the tears and red face of my mother... at least 20 Hours of work put in to that cake that I had de-virginized with my stupid little lack of control.. I know my mother worked her hardest on that cake and to this day I will never forget the chunk of cake I took out of "The Scoop Heard 'round the World".
I have never understood why my God forsaken internet would never hook up correctly in my new apartment. I have done everything by the book and spent about 4 total hours on the phone with customer service representitives, speaking in their thick middle eastern accents, calling me sir at every breath they took. Kinda nice for once!! I might start calling just to talk to Hjjiahm or Sonjam again for that ittty bit of respect from someone you just dont know. Ha anyways...more about what makes me...ME.
I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico at a Presbyterian Hospital on July 9th, in the great year of 1990. I was raised all throughout Albuquerque in a Southern Baptist household with everything I could ever need. I never missed a meal and never went cold at night. My mother has held many jobs in my childhood that I can remember, anything from a certified massage therapist to a calligrapher. I remember one of her side jobs was building...yea I said building...Wedding cakes. She made the most beautiful and artistic cakes. I remember one cake...and only one cake that she had made because I got beat so bad that I just cant remember the rest!!!
It was sitting there on the table...... just staring at me..... "Hhhheeeeyyyyyy little Wesley.... commmmeerrrree"... as I approached the cake at the tiny age of 4, I knew I could be busted bad on this one... I took a step... then another.... Before I knew it I was there... chin high right up to that table staring at the designs on the side of the beautiful cake.... then it was like something I had never felt before... My arm was moving... My finger extending.... then... oh then.. the flavor.. I took my chubby little finger and dug all i could with that one little finger out of that beautiful cake.... no spanking, no grounding, nothing could have been done to me to make me sorry for tasting that delicious cake...until I saw the tears and red face of my mother... at least 20 Hours of work put in to that cake that I had de-virginized with my stupid little lack of control.. I know my mother worked her hardest on that cake and to this day I will never forget the chunk of cake I took out of "The Scoop Heard 'round the World".
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