I never had a traumatic childhood. Well, the usual trauma stuff, you know. Not enough to write a book about or blame everything wrong in my current life on.
But I sure as hell am having a traumatic workhood. No not the much publicised recession and the like. This is on a whole different plane altogether.
Let me give you a glimpse into what I mean.
A friend wanted to order a surprise birthday gift for his fiance but didn't want it delivered to his home, lest she saw it and ruined said surprise. So I volunteered my office address (I'm nice that way). With a warning though, that as long as it wasn't anything kinky, adult-ish, or anything to do with cute pink teddy bears. They're all really the same things.
So anyway, I'm working from home on Friday and my colleague calls me asking for some help. I say I'm busy and make a great excuse(I'm always learning from Dilbert).
Colleague resorts to threats and then blackmail. Says, she'll tell everyone that she's holding a package from Anthropologie for me. I quickly google anthropologie and realise it's a womans only store, that sells lingerie and pretty pink dresses.
Bloody hell. The fool sent women's clothing to my office with my name on it.
I say it's for my girl friend.
She says your girl friend is in India.
I say you know too much, stop stalking me.
She says she'll sell the story to office folks, which will involve me cross dressing. It'll catch on like wild fire.
I say no one will believe you. They love me too much.
She says do you want to test that out.
I say no.
She says you changed your mind about helping me yet.
I say yes.
After I've sweated for an hour over a dumb model she wants, I get an instant message on my laptop from my boss.
Boss: "I have your dress."
CD: "Come again."
Boss: " *Insert colleague's name* dropped it over to my office for safekeeping."
*CD swears under his breath*
CD: " It's for my girl friend."
Boss: "She's in India."
CD: "Why does every one know that?"
Boss: "Don't worry, I'll keep it over the weekend in my office. I won't tell anyone, unless they ask me."
CD: " Sure you won't."
Boss: " I promise."
On Monday, I enter office, and see this right outside my boss's office.
The post it says "Ask Me What This Is."
Obviously everyone's been asking why I'm wearing pants today? How come no flannel jeans or a yellow polka dot dress? Is the silk lingerie tickling me?
You think I'm ready to write that book now?