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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation

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the state of Jenn the Great, Dictator of Courtesy (and various celebrations)
flying pig
Flowergate (tm thefouthvine) has--don't even ask me how this has happened, I don't know--*exploded*.

Everyone has an opinion. People who have no opinion on the *weather* have an opinion. They have told me so. Repeatedly.

People, I am not Miss Social Director at work, but suddenly, my cubicle is Grand Freaking Central Station for the opinions. All the opinions. Opinions on situations demanding flowers, situations that don't, cake responsibilites, cake ordering, plate and cup ordering, more flower situations, desk versus the gravesite, card logistics, long term sick leave strategy, who is in the hospital, whose girlfriend lives five hours away and the guy still commutes to work here every day and how many sick and or/hospitalized mothers does he *have*, what constitutes close family members, and those darned managers and their crazy, crazy ways.

*leans back in uncomfortable chair*

In one corner, we have My Committee--and when they did become rabid defenders of the common man and fiscal solvency anyway?--who we will dub the Revolutionaries. Every hour or so, one of them finds a reason to drop by my office and spend twenty minutes discussing the situation and condemning The Man. No, not kidding.

Corner Two, the Managers, who apparently had a *meeting about this* on Monday. No. Really. They met to discuss flower protocols. I am lost on words. I'd like to dub them The Crazy. But I probably won't, because with my luck, I'll say it during a meeting and wow, unemployment, good for writing, not so much for regular laptop payments. Group Three is the various members of the office who feel the need to almost take a side and sometimes spread weird and unfounded gossip--or in the case of the guy living with his girlfriend, not so unfounded--and making it more indecipherable with every retelling. Then.

Well, then there's me.

If this falls out like I'm pretty sure it will, the entire situation will be blamed on me for sending flowers the first time to a woman who entered the hospital in an emergency due to abdominal bleeding by internet instead of convening a meeting on the spot and taking an officewide vote on how to respond to the situation. See, this is what happens when I take unilateral, leaderly action! Unilateral, leaderly action demanded by *my* manager and agreed on by my committee. My next item of business is to declare my cubicle an independent nation and negotiate for ambassadors while I hold the committee funds hostage.

I'm sorry. This is the most fun I have ever had watching crazy people. Oh *wow*. So Dilbert is actually *real*. Who knew?

I don't think I've ever loved life more.

I need a dictator icon. To show my unilateral self demanding cake, not bread, and ordering flowers in defiance of all the laws of god and man.

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This reminds me so much of a government department I worked for once. I'd blocked a lot of it out of my memory, but it's all come flooding back.

Oh God.

Particularly the bit about the managers. Flashbacks to a certain stupid but cunning manager and her yellow suit with the ghastly black and white embroidery that actually made me flinch the first time I saw it. She'd be running the flower protocol meeting. For sure.

Oh, God.

Eight years. It's been eight years. *deep breaths* They can't get me now!

Oh, and have fun being a dictator. ;-)

(There is sanity after you escape. Truly.)

I am bloated with the power of my position. I am going to do--oh so many things. Easter is coming up. Oh yes. It is. And I WILL PREVAIL!

Oh man. This is the weirdest thing *ever*.

Easter and the committee funds. A dangerous combination. There could be chocolate rabbits in your office's future. Lots of them. You'll have them quaking in fear in no time.

And Peeps. Armies and armies of Peeps! An invasion force!!! *evil chuckle*

I need a dictator icon.

You totaly need one of Rodney declaiming "Leadership!"...

*face in hands* Oh my God...

The thing is, I get so uncomfortable watching him sometimes, because I'm beginning to *connect* with his annoyance with stupid people in very uncomfortable ways. It's--not pretty.

Heh, all the more fitting then, though it's likely that the WWRD? approach to life is going to make you less popular than the What-Would-Spock-Do? philosophy... But--leadership! (that never fails to crack me up...)

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Oh yeah - totally a documentary, I am so on board with you on this one.

The committee backs me up on this.


Maybe we should meet to discuss it.

I've been following the Flower Kerfuffle, and I gotta tell you -- amusing. Sad. Pathetic. But deeply, deeply amusing. People are so weird. You should put up a sign at your desk -- "Please enjoy the complimentry grain of salt on your way back to your cubicle."

Also, calling them The Crazy outloud may be the funniest thing in a long, sad history of inter-office hilarity.

::hugs and and shares tasty ice cream::

See, I *would*. And it would all go downhill from there.

oh man. Only a government agency. You need to start using words like "executive decision" "perogative" and "individual discretion".

*hopeful* You know, at least one of GWB's speeches could be tailored. If I could drag in that human-hybrid thing....oh. Oh yes.

In honor of cake I use my Marie Antoinette icon.

Awww. *hugs you*

Also, glad you liked the thorax cake. Did you see the other two she had on her site? The zombie one was cool, but that damn thorax was amazing.

Mmn, no, afraid I didn't check out the other cakes she had. :Goes to look.:

'So Dilbert is actually 'real'. Who knew?'

I love that ...and you really are enjoying yourself aren't you?...you go Jenn...that was just hysterical....people really are quite strange aren't they?...and fun!!!...*wandersofflaughing*

Just mindblowing fun.

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*grins sunnily* Oh the irony in that....

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OMG, this is hilarious-but-true land, isn't it?

PS ...if you declare your cubicle an indepdendent nation, please feel free to show us the designs you've chosen for your flag (gotta focus on the *important* details...)

You whacky floral dictator.

I... and... *struggles for words*


Don't these people have lives?

*Starts designing a flag*

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