Greetings from 1201 Western Ave, Suite 425--affectionately known as the Office. I bring you this exclusive insider’s update courtesy of my lack of assignments and general boredom. I spent several minutes searching for a way to take a screenshot of my computer so I could give you an in-depth image of my life at 11:25am on Thursday, January 6, 2011, but Macs and I don’t have the tidiest of relationships. Instead, you’ll just have to settle for these brief status updates throughout the day:
9:34am: When I arrived at my cubicle this morning, I saw that my phone was flashing—an indication of a new message. I pressed the “Message” button, entered my security code when prompted, and then waited the usual two minutes—no exaggeration—for the prerecorded message machine lady to locate my single message. I did all that just to listen to someone breathing really loudly for several seconds before hanging up. This is my life.
11:37am: I have just consumed a Cuties Clementine—after Googling the fruit to make sure that Cuties are, indeed, clementines and not satsumas. The sticker reads, “Root 4 the Cute!” and I have stuck it to my hand so I can send it to a friend in Australia, where the word “root” would never be found next to an adorable icon of an animated orange with eyes.
11:40am: H just dropped her pen.
11:42am: I informed H that I’m blogging from work. Her response: “Oh! Don’t forget to mention my turkey noodle soup!”
11:53a,: I have successfully located a YouTube video for one of my web event uploads. As a reward, I’m indulging in a dry, spongy PB&J.
12:17pm: Across the office—the dwelling place of the people I fondly refer to as “the others”—there was a sharp cackle and then silence. I took the opportunity to make a ruckus of my own…by biting into a carrot. Shortly after the disruption of peace and quiet, I received this from H: “How’s the blog update going? You getting all that yelling coming from that office?”
12:28pm: H would like me to inform you, my faithful readers, that she has recently received several press releases and is “hot on the trail of press photos.” Hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen. It’s gettin’ wild up in here.
12:45pm: I emailed C about my live office blogging. (Note that I emailed her and she sits right next to me. That’s how we roll here at the Office.) This was her emailed response (all you need to know beforehand is that M is a woman who sits smack-dab in the middle of the interns but has never spoken to any of us and carries on loud and mostly meaningless telephone conversations about the SPF of her sunscreen and how many shots of tequila she had while on vacation. C and I have made it a point to eavesdrop, but really, it’s not like we can choose not to hear): “That sounds just as productive as any day here, really. I really enjoyed my tofurkey and swiss sandwich, and I feel like your readers are probably hanging on the edges of their seats wanting to know that. Also, M’s dad made it home safely from the airport yesterday, so I know we are all relieved. I just spent twenty minutes watching YouTube clips of Teatro Zinzanni, which seems to be a strange mix of a circus and a strip club. Pretty sure I saw some naked boobs. Outrage in the office.”
12:50pm: This just in from Correspondent H: “Got a massive photo of TC Boyle...does he look like a serial killer or what? Look over my way.”
12:51pm: This just in from Correspondent C: “More big news for the blog! I have Scrabble on my phone, and someone just beat me 342 to 194. I mean, that's just shameful. They had three words that used all 7 of their letters. In one game!”
12:55pm: There is a strange man standing next to M’s desk. I emailed H to ask who he was. The answer: “I don’t know! He sometimes interviews people in the conference room. And he’s got a weird pic of himself in the staffroom in colonial garb or something. I’ll give you my Starbucks card ($5, baby! Catch of the Month!) if you find out.” I should mention that Catch of the Month refers to the intern or editor who catches the most egregious, embarrassing errors while proofreading before the issue goes to print. The “catcher” receives a $5 gift card, which at Starbucks is exactly enough for half of a weakly flavored chai latte and two bites of blueberry muffin.
1:04pm: Every time the advertisers (aka “the others”) sell an add, they ring a cowbell. The bell was just rung. It is very distracting, as I am hard at work over here. This just in from correspondent H: “That bell just puts a hitch in my giddy-up. Know what would really liven it up over here in editorial? An airhorn. One that we blew every time we found an error fact-checking or a widowed word on a proof. I’m putting this in the suggestion box right now. Where is that?”
1:07pm: C dropped her water bottle. I slid my chair around the corner of the cubicle and told her that I’m writing that down. “I made too much noise!” she said.
1:40pm: I just looked over at H and she made the motion of her head exploding.
1:58pm: H got hung up on by the owner of a doughnut shop.
Just another day in the black hole of human contact that is the Office.
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