They installed a swear jar at work. Is it bad that instead of seeing it as a deterrent for bad language, I think of it as paying for permission? Like those donation buttons that let you wear jeans on a Monday?
The swears have been coming fast and furious. End of fiscal is meeting the end of a major project and if I’m reading the signs correctly the end of days….or the coming of cthulhu. (I’m always getting those two mixed up.)
Either way, it’s not great at work. I work in an office that is usually busy but upbeat. We joke. We work hard and we try to hold ourselves to a high standard. For the last several weeks the standard has been reduced to finding reasons to swallow the bitter little pill of truth until the meeting is over, then dropping change in the swear jar and letting rip for a little stress relief.
“Hey I didn’t quit today. Good day.”
Actual quotes from today at work:
- “Fingers crossed that it all doesn’t go to hell.”
- “Does anyone see a risk in discussing sensitive corporate topics in a public forum? No? Maybe I should ask that question again.”
- “You know it’s bad at work when you walk past the A&W and think…that would be ok. I could work there.”
But in good news they finally voted J’Tia off Survivor. That might have put my world back in balance.
PS. I’m starting a savings plan. I really really need to swear sometimes.
Brainstorming reasons not to quit is usually quite easy.
- I really like my job most of the time.
- The people at work at wonderful, even if we have a 90 percent ass-hat quotient right now.
- I like eating… and living indoors.
But some days I need a little more help. So I ask myself, if I was writing the story of my life and I wanted to up the tension, how would I make it worse for my character at work?
For example…what if your nasty boss was a twin and they both worked with you?
What if the lady who cooks fish for lunch every day got a George Foreman grill so she could cook it right at her desk?
What if you were sitting in a meeting with your boss explaining the risks of their stupid plan and they just ignored you? (Nope, wait, that was my real day.)
Play the game with me and when you hit the breaking point of “I’d quit” put pen to paper and tell that story. Good luck keeping it fictional folks. I wish you all happy days at work. (I need the good karma.)