The Coming Battle

Good people,

Things are tense up in this hedge. Last month it was announced that there would be downsizing at the Happy Cappy Investment Team.

Aside from a slight gloom in the air though, things have been pretty much the same since then. People have been making bizarre requests, the Stone Cold Killer freaks out when fruit supplies run low (you'd think we were running a type 1 diabetes center the way he flips out), and people have been stealing my supplies. However, I must add one important detail about the contraband: they are boxcutters and scissors. That's right these are the items that have been disappearing at the fastest rate of anything in the mailroom. I'm ordering scissors and boxcutters every week now.

Where are they going? Who is preparing for the inter-0ffice war? Is it the layoffers or the layoffees that is arming itself? (I can dream can't I?)

All I know is that the air was thicker than ever today. When I said hi to my boss I couldn't get one word out of her. When I took a breather at the front desk for a second I was told I am no longer allowed to sit up there (a week ago they switched it up so I don't ever cover the front desk anymore--fine with me--instead the EAs do.) When I pointed out that a lightbulb (a weird, specialty one) burned out at the coffee bar I asked for the corporate credit card. Apparently, it wasn't such a big deal so I should do it later. Yeah, right.

Stone Cold Killer has an aneurysm when there's ONLY one container of hand soap in the men's bathroom (not to mention the hand soap in the wall-mounted pump). Like I said, people are weird, and it's obvious as fuck what's going on. Oh, and HR's been on lockdown all day printing up a forest worth of trees.

**We interrupt this blog because I just "the call." I'm supposed to go to a different floor with no explanation. If this were a mobster movie I'd get the fuck outta dodge, right now.

Stay tuned.