Life, Don’t Talk to Me About Life

Freeze, what am i a refrigerator?

Freeze, what am i a refrigerator?

Unlike the paranoid android, this is the section of the blog where our esteemed writers get to talk about life. I do not expect a terribly large amount of postings to be here, but when something does pop up it is likely because one of us needed to sound off about an event that has recently happened in our personal lives, or to tell an amusing anecdote of some sort. To protect the identity and pride of those involved in some of these stories, most names will be primarily fictional, but will be kept consistent so you can follow the rise and fall of either us, or our fictitious friends.

Personally, while I sit here and write, nothing terribly fascinating is going on. Fact of the matter is, I’m at work, killing time while a skeleton crew operates the distribution center I work at on Independence Day. Apparently there’s hot dogs and drinks for free somewhere in the 1.5 million square feet of this place, so I will definitely kill some time wandering around when the union workers take lunch. Anyhow, when there are not many employees here at the office, my day becomes drastically more boring, as my primary job is to service the other people in case they have issues with their handheld electronic equipment, or their forklift and turret computers. And, since the majority of IT decided to take the day off and go “on call”, I am the primary line of defense when it comes to proletariat problems. Which, could range anywhere from “Oh my god my battery ran out of juice” to “Holy mother of god, my receiving gun signed me off so I need you to sign me back on!” Such a difficult job, let me tell you.

Of course, the real reason I care about IT being off is so that I can sit here and do all of this instead of falling asleep at my “desk” based on my two hours of sleep the previous night. All I can say is, thank God Triple T doesn’t work at my place of business.


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