Adult Truth #4
There is great need for a sarcasm font.
It would be even better if it was just one of those buttons at the top of the MSWord document like the Bold and Italics button. Sarcasm button.
I would be able to stop using quotation marks around my sarcasm, thus eliminating the confusion for people who put quotes around “everything” and making my blog much more readable. See earlier post.
Would have come in handy when I was texting Scott about the “sweet” thing my department did to present me with my five-year lapel pin which I will quickly send in to Cash for Gold.
If you make it too easy, I just might use the thing all the time. It would be like those people that type in all capital letters all the time. STOP SHOUTING AT ME ALREADY!
As of right now, I can hide my sarcasm in an email and it appears as if I am being genuine. This is the reason I stopped having face to face conversations. If you give me the font, I’ll probably use it. And that will just open up a whole other can of worms.
I have been in my current job for five years, but it actually seems longer. I was at Ernst & Young for six before I got kicked out for being a mom (kidding…not really), and I feel like I have been here twice as long.
Maybe because my former frequent flyer miles actually caused days to disappear out of my life never to be recovered and now I’m living each and every one of them out. Not sure.
Regardless, it’s been five glorious years. (Where is that font?)
Background: We have a manager meeting every Thursday at lunch time where we eat our lunch together and then talk about classified information. Like whether or not Kelly agrees with me that the Marnie storyline on True Blood has run its course. The conference room we usually meet in is currently on a floor under construction.
Scene 1 in which I get no less than twenty meeting invite updates in my inbox from our esteemed leader who is trying to change the meeting location.
Me: You are killing me.
Bill: (Innocently) ?
That was over instant message, he didn’t actually say “?”
Scene 2 in which I return from the restroom, check my calendar for the location, grab my scissors and head to 802. No, I don’t usually bring weapons to manager meetings, but today I had decided to multitask and cut out strips of paper to use at the PTA meeting for door prize entries. I sit down and start cutting, only slightly registering that the lines in the cafeteria must be long. That’s when I receive a text.
Mary: We are back up here from 10.
Me: Where is “here?” I’m in 802.
Me: I’ll get there when I get there.
I’m pretty sure the tone of that one made it across. Because, damnit, I rarely look at my calendar to confirm a room, trusting the people that I’m with know where they are going, but he had just sent out all those updates and I wasn’t stopping in the cafeteria with them, so I actually, for once in my f-ing life, made a point to look.
Scene 3 in which I walk in to the actual meeting room and the rest of the department is standing along the wall, saying “Surprise!”
Me: (Clearly annoyed and thinking that he has gathered everybody for some announcement and had them say surprise so I wouldn’t be mad that his update hadn’t made it to me.) What for?
Probably not the reaction anyone was going for. So, yeah, sweet!
The things we leave behind.
2 hours ago