Boogers and Layoffs 5/28/2009

I’ve been lying in wait for new blog topics for a brief stint, on the prowl for blog worthy material. I’ve been hungry for the chance to hear the soothing sounds of my fingers typing, to experience the euphoria of placing my thoughts into typewritten text, to share with you my take on life.

Don’t get me wrong; I’ve stumbled across great substance in the past few weeks. I’ve had many adventures; I went home to see my family, spent some time with good Madisonians, partook in plenty of interesting conversations… One with a crazy fool hopped up on caffeine and chew standing over University Avenue on a pedestrian bridge. I’ve almost licked rehabbing a broken ankle and certifiably returned to the golf course. Yes. You could say I have a plethora of starting points from which to compose a great blog.

But my style of blogging has evolved to a point where I am in a constant state of trying to marry totally random topics together.

For example; boogers and layoffs.

Boogers. Oh yes. The bat in the cave, the flapper, the avalanche, the dry ones, the snotty/sticky/wet ones, and even those little nuggets of gold on which we try to strike it rich when no one is looking.

Boogers are random and will strike out of nowhere. You could be doing anything; washing your car, riding the bus, attending a staff meeting at work, ass parked on the couch watching the idiot box, having wild sadomasochistic animal sex in the basement of a stranger’s home. Boogers can and will catch you off your guard, blindside you and take you at a moment’s notice. Boogers do not discriminate; they are an equal opportunity bodily annoyance.

Boogers have the ability, certainly, to be untimely; especially when faced with a situation where you can’t immediately put an end to your personal booger madness. While talking to a co-worker you suddenly notice that all-too-familiar tickle in your right nostril. Fuck. At this very moment you become well aware of the booger’s presence. In an instant you are no longer interested in what Sally has to say about the filth in the office refrigerator. You revert back to your basic needs, you’re looking out for number one, you’re hoping that this will be one of those situations in which your brain decides to pitch in… and will eat that booger for you. You sure as hell don’t want Sally’s office gossip Du Jour to turn into the dried wad of mucus that decided to park itself on your top lip during this conversation.

You become dreadfully uncomfortable and begin to twitch and squirm as if someone has handed you the pink slip with your impending date of termination. You try not to panic, you try to play it cool, Sally CANNOT come to the realization that you are teetering on the verge of flushing your self-confidence down your personal toilet.

My morning at Vilas Hall was like any other morning. I made a pot of coffee, checked my email, and prioritized a hefty to-do list. And then, just like that booger, I was given the most untimely of news. My last day of employment will be the fourth of January next year. When I was told of the impending date I tried not to panic. I put on my best Oscar winning performance and hoped to hell that the academy didn’t notice. I was leering over my personal toilet with the taste of vomit in my mouth.

I felt caught off guard, blindsided, and could not imagine a more inopportune time to be faced with unemployment. I sure as fuck didn’t care at that moment about installing the new version of Microsoft Office on an employee’s PC; I reverted to thinking about how I was going to put a roof over my head in seven short months.

Although the news was dire, I am hopeful that this employment booger, which has only just reared it’s crusty self at the top of my professional nostril, will be saved by my wealth of knowledge, experience and talents that I have to offer to any potential employer. I’d rather have my fellow colleagues be discussing the up and coming office potluck, not the fact that the IT Diva of Vilas Hall is in search of a job.