As you may recall from an earlier post (I Haiku. Do you?), I work with a bunch of degenerate creatives.

That said, they are the reason I drive in my little box on wheels to this building (a box) to sit in my office (yet another box) 40 hours a week. (Digression: I didn't come up with that little philosophical gem on my own. I got it from "The Box" -- the most horrible movie that ever was made, which was, somehow, chock full o' great one-liners.)

The most recent anti-minutiae activity we devised was a list of pet peeves. This list of 23 egregious transgressions took a full year to compile. This is mainly because it was posted off the main drag, at the top of the writers' hall, attached to my office door, right next to my giant "K" and irreverent cartoons about office life.

Considering a few of these peeves involved writers bashing artists and artists bashing writers, you'd think this is a hostile environment. Au contraire mon frere. This is where genius is born -- and genius drives out anger, envy, laziness and all manners of evil. (Except for greed. Our greed is firmly intact.) So, with no further ado, I give you the list of personal annoyances as catalogued by the Publications Department.

THE LIST
1) People who text while driving
2) People who put on cologne without showering
3) People who don't wave after you let them merge
4) People who say "Valentimes" instead of "Valentine's"
5) Hallmark holidays
6) People who state/ask the obvious
7) People who say "old timers" instead of "Alzheimer's." [Writer's note: Not really a funny pet peeve, but it irks me just the same.]
8) People who say "liberry" instead of "library"
9) People who are bitter about Valentine's Day
10) Grammar Nazis who obsess over pronunciation and spelling
11) People who make up Pet Peeves list [written next to this one: "listS"]
12) People who correct the Pet Peeve above them
13) Designers who think they're writers
14) Why do some people axe a question instead of ask?
15) No excuse for not knowing the phone system after 6 months [written next to this one: How about 12 years?]
16) People who can't read the instructions and get out the front door
17) When you hit "print" but it doesn't automatically print and you walk to the printer but have to go back and hit the "print" button again
18) People who say "cool beans." What does that mean?!
19) People who mention the race of the people in stories when it's irrelevant
20) People who say itch when they mean scratch
21) People who correct people all of the time [This was directed toward me and signed "From Everyone"]
22) People who cannot lay papers flat within an "In" tray
23) When people call the publications department "pubs"

Now, there were a few from our admin in there, too. It shouldn't be too hard to pick those out. She's all about everything being in its place, which is kinda the reason this place runs like a well-oiled ... well ... runner.

Before you go, I've got a favor to ask: Click on the "Comments" thought bubble at the top right and tell me what truly ticks you off. I've just gotta know!

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It has recently come to my attention that I'm not very productive at my nine-to-five. This harsh fact was brought to my attention by a good friend - and co-worker - who has noticed my half-hearted attempts at looking busy. What she calls half-hearted, I prefer to call by a more accurate moniker: apathetic. In other words, I no longer give a damn.

You know where my mind is, right? You know that dimly lit, musty mental place in which you can't really think of a good reason to keep pretending to care about your J.O.B.? You know, when you show up late for work and no longer bother to call in and say, "Hey, a delivery truck ran into a city bus which ran into a mustang-toting trailer on my route, so I'm running a little late" OR "You know, I thought I had the mumps this morning, but I'm over it. See you after lunch!"

That's where I am. I mean, they're lucky to get a "My morning toilet time ran a little longer than I planned" or a "What? It's not like you really expected me to be on time."

I have resorted to using the following techniques to entertain myself as I wait for the imaginary bell to signal the time to activate voice mail and log out of this ankle bracelet they call a computer. (Like Big Brother really needs to know how I voted on the Lindsay Lohan vs. Gabrielle Union "Who Wore It Best" online smackdown!):

1. Reading a book from the pull-out supply drawer in my desk. (Once you've read the first [insert Sookie Stackhouse, Twilight, Dan Brown novel here] book, you can't stop until you've read 'em all!)
2. Booting up my laptop next to my work computer. (Why should I do freelance work on my own time? That's just working hard, not smart.)
3. Making my next to-do list during meetings. (I have a list of lists I need to make. Help me.)
4. Searching for things on Craigslist. (I'm going to need something at some time, and I will expect it to cost between a minimum and maximum dollar amount.)
5. Taking extended bathroom breaks. (I can SO get facebook on my phone in the John. Sweet!)

And, yes. There are more. But, I'm sure you're so busy judging me that you don't have time to read on.

I know the economy is slowly recovering, but I'm not oblivious to the fact that there are thousands of people right now praying the government extends their unemployment benefits so that they can continue enjoying creature comforts like, I don't know ... sustenance. I'm grateful for that direct deposit on the 15th and the last. It always signals Wine Buying Day, and that's my favorite holiday of all.

However, there has got to be more than this. And there is. I try to remind myself daily of something that Mr. Do-Right said to me after my first month at this job. I was wracked with self-pity after my "boss" excoriated me for writing like I "don't know what I'm talking about." (She told me a month later that my writing is "exquisite." Hmph!) He said, "Remember why you're there." So, at times like these, when I start sending out Evites to my annual pity party, I try to remember why I'm doing this. I want to be able to give my children the things that make them smile. I want to be able to have a girls night out or spend New Year's Eve in a cabin with some of my closest friends. I want to be able to fill my gas tank up, and not just stop at $10. I want to be able to open my refrigerator and have choices. I want to be able to give to people who need it, and throw a little away on something ridiculous like a Salad Spinner or a Snuggie.

And, of most import to my readers, I want to be able to spend a night with my favorite man, eating something sinfully cheesy and sharing a bottle of some bad-ass vino. Salud!

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