anchorman, office hate crimes, office, work, vending machine, tension

Office hate crimes

Work is enough of a minefield without these c***ts undermining your actual sanity

The hugging c***

Is there anything more unnerving than the office hugger gliding towards you with tilted head and arms outstretched? And you are trying not cry anyway (about the indignity you suffered without anyone noticing) and now everyone is looking and the hugger is looming and you are having a panic attack and you have to go floppy and endure the cuddle. (Confession: Emilie is that hugger. Annabel, not so much). Also have they not heard of CORONAVIRUS? Does Amazon sell a full-body mask?

The CC c***

There’s always one who is a compulsive CC’er. That person is paranoid, lazy, probably not very good at their job and covering up like mad. This person is dangerous, spreading said paranoia and resentment with all the buck passing and all the managing up. You are both hindered and massively pissed off by this action. You woosh into a CC vortex and have fantasy email fights where you are BRILLIANTLY dynamic yet withering.

The chair c***

There’s one good chair in every office in the land. It hasn’t been cried on, coffee-d on, houmous-ed on. Maybe it was even ergonomically adjusted to your back by the office physiotherapist back in the day when the company cared about such things. You sweated blood for that chair. Can you find the fucking chair? No, you fucking can’t. Bastards.

The thermostat c***

You are in a dance of death with a colleague over the air conditioning. You wonder if it would stay at your preferred temperature if you smashed the dial with a hammer, rendering change impossible. You contemplate smashing your colleague with a hammer next time you catch them near it. (The Midult in no way endorses acts of violence *shrug emoji*)

The coffee c****s

So you need a decent coffee. And, despite every single fibre of your body telling you otherwise, you realise that you have to offer a – gasp – coffee run. It’s as though everyone has been playing coffee chicken and you have lost. The deluge of soyaoneshotnochocolatelattefullfatalmond hits you like a bucket of cold piss. You’ll need a coffee and a Valium to get over it – if you ever get out of Starbucks. And those c***s don’t even pay tax.

The kettle c***

People who boil one mugs worth of water. They pretend it’s because they are eco. That is a lie. It’s because it’s quicker. That’s all.

The clock c***

There’s always one. Sighing as you get up ON TIME to leave the office. Ignoring the fact that you will be weeping into your laptop at 11pm trying to untangle the current “CC” mangle. Dismissing the fact that you are always early; endlessly effective, good-natured and have never got to wail at HR. They’re just sitting there, looking at the clock, sending out just enough passive aggression for you to break out in anxiety hives: is this why I haven’t been promoted/given a pay rise/my hair is falling out?

The voice note c***

As if you are not deluged with emails 24/7, there is someone who has discovered voice notes. What? How are voice notes less sociopathic than voicemails? And also… group voice notes on WhatsApp? Long ones? Really really long ones? WTF? The nightmare has begun.

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