A conversation with Shannon’s Imaginary Co-Worker.

Imaginary Co-Worker: Shannon are you here at all?

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: Yeah. What can I help you with?

Imaginary Co-Worker: Wow that’s a lot of paper you have there on your desk.

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: Yup it is. What do you want?

Imaginary Co-Worker: And look at all those boxes surrounding your desk – you know I had some difficulty getting in here past the ones that are blocking the door?

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: Yeah I know, I do too.

Imaginary Co-Worker: So where are you hiding in here anyway?

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: Just tell me what you want me to do for you and go away.

Imaginary Co-Worker: No. Where are you? And why is your office so messy?

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: I was hiding under my desk because people keep putting piles of papers all over it. While under there I was sucked into some sort of an alternative universe. Currently I’m relaxing on a hammock and drinking a jumbo sized Mai Tai. I may go swimming in the lagoon later.

Imaginary Co-Worker: Really? There’s a lagoon? Can I come see?

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: No.

Imaginary Co-Worker: Fine. You need to come back now because I want you to stuff 1500 letters into envelopes.

Shannon’s Disembodied Voice: I quit.

Imaginary Co-Worker: You can’t quit. We own your soul. Now get out here and stuff those letters.

Shannon’s Imaginary Co-Worker Turns and stalks out of the office, ignoring the giant cocktail glass that comes flinging out from under Shannon’s desk to smash against her filing cabinets.


6 thoughts on “A conversation with Shannon’s Imaginary Co-Worker.

  1. Hmmmm that imaginary co-worker sounds suspiciously like someone i know…..

    I promise you don’t have to fold them ALL, just half of them…..

  2. You know, I often feel sorry for people who have to work office jobs they hate. Or office jobs at all. I would go ape shit if I had to file paperwork and read memo’s and live in a cubicle.

    But then I gash my hand open on rusty metal and dip the fresh cut in sand and bleachy toilete water while crawling through spider webs to try and get out from under the trailer I’m fixing, and I wonder if I have enough money to visit the doctor for the probable tetanis/gangrene/black widow bite/possible STD I will be coming down with from the injury and I remember why my job sucks too. But then I wrap it up in duct tape and go back to my care free hands on job where I am free to cuss and get dirty and come in hung over, and I’m back to loving life. But then I realize I work with all dudes and never, ever get to look at or talk to the sort of beautiful and intelligent ladies I could be working with if I just got a better education, and it’s back to suck ville. But then I smoke a cigarette whilst I use power tools and ponder what sort of mayhem will be on the Jerry Springer show during our lunch break, and the grass is greeener again. It all sucks, and it’s all good, that’s just life darlin. At least you got to drink at work!

  3. Ahh tradesmen…I used to live with one and he always came home bleeding or drunk, or both. Poor Shannon and the envelopes…that sort of job would crush my soul. Good thing marine biology means I don’t have to talk to people, cause I’m a good shot with the giant cocktail glass.

  4. LOL@Josh. Yeah, office jobs suck. But I’d take sitting on my ass all day blogging than crawling around under trailers. Yeesh. I’ve done manual labour jobs and frankly, they both suck.
    Shannon, I’m sorry my dear. I too have a shitty desk job where people ask me to do mundane things. I try and ignore them and scare them away with my angry face, but they don’t leave.
    I’m often tempted to climb under my desk a la George from Seinfeld and have a little nap.

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