"I wonder where Pam went"

My worst nightmare came true this weekend.

Michael showed up at my retail job.

I knew it was coming. When I started working at the shop in Viewpoint Mall, Michael hadn’t even heard of the store before.

Then a week and a half ago he tells me Jan and her sister discovered the shop, and she just LOVED it.

Oh no.

I wasn’t too too worried. I knew that there was another location of the store closer to where Michael lived, and he never talked about coming to my part of town for anything. I figured I was safe.

I was wrong.

I was helping out at the registers when I saw him turn the corner waving at me, Jan in tow.  Luckily it had slowed down and I had just signed off my register. I gave a quick grunt that sounded somewhat like a hello and hopped on a telephone as quick as possible to call one of the other departments with some inane question.

Jan and Michael camped out just to the right of me while I was on the phone.  I turned my head to the left as if looking for something and as soon as I was done on the phone, hung up and bolted in the opposite direction of them. I then hid in a stock room until I was sure the two were gone.

Why Michael? Why must you torture me everywhere I go?

If only Meredith had gottena flue shot ... or washed her hands properly.

Every year, a nurse comes to our office to dole out flu shots to everyone who wants them.

But Angela said that isn’t in the budget this year. It’s still covered by our insurance, but if we want one, we have to get one somewhere else. Of course waits this year are crazy with people more scared about the flu than ever. Ugh.

However, Dunder Mifflin did not totally abandon us. They came up with a backup plan.

In lieu of flu shots, the company issued signs for each branch to print and post in the bathroom that outline how to properly wash our hands.

Ohhh Dunder Mifflin, you think of everything!

P.S. CONGRATS PAM AND JIM!!!! I mean… umm congrats to me? Oh man I’m having an identity crisis.

P.P.S. Angela just snuck up behind me as I was typing this. Ack!

So as I said in my last post, I decided to focus my efforts this summer on changing my life instead of complaining about it.

And I made some noble attempts. I now have a couple of freelance ventures that I’m pretty proud of. I mean they haven’t brought in enough income to replace either of my jobs, so they really have only created more work on top of my two jobs for me. But whatever. I enjoy them.

And I realized not blogging has not really saved me any time. Now I just spend more time complaining to Jim and Mr. Beesly and wasting time on other blogs while I’m too depressed to work. So I figured “Why not go back to wasting time on this blog?!”

The job search is still in limbo. Mr. Beesly and I have a pretty nice vacay planned in a month or so. And I have really no time off between now and the end of the year for interviews. So a full-force effort might not start until then.

Though sales positions has opened up at Dunder Mifflin and I am considering going for it (SEE! Reality mimics art AGAIN). I’m not totally qualified, but neither was Pam on the show … so why not go for it, right?!

This would mean Michael would not be my boss anymore, but I’d still be close enough to hear him and mock him. It’s a win/win for everyone!

I’ll keep you posted on my decision.

I’ll try to recap some of the events of this summer as I remember them, but honestly I have blocked a lot of it from memory. Jim almost quit, we had evaluations, we had a company picnic, and we stressed Michael out so much by not talking to him that we have given him (alleged) sleeping problems.

More on all that later. I missed you guys!

The life-shaking events I wrote about in the last post have really got me thinking. I’m re-evaluating things and trying to set new priorities. 

My schedule right now is so jammed packed with working at a job where my boss drives me insane, working a part-time job just to make ends meet and helping take care of various family issues that I’m ready to snap.

This is why, at least for now, I will be taking a break from I Work at the Office.

I may still update now and then if a really great story pops up. But I figure the time I take complaining about my situation might better be spent searching for new opportunities. 

So this summer, my resolution is to pursue any jobs or personal projects that I have always wished I could do and really focus on making something good happen with my life. Think of this as the time during The Office when Pam was barely on the show because she was at design school in New York.

If anyone is interested, I will however be more than happy to post your own stories about Office-worthy work place adventures.

Thanks for reading and check back from time to time or follow me on Twitter for alerts on blog updates.

Michael Scott ponders the meaning of life -- as seen on TV.

So it’s been a  rough few weeks at the Beesly household. A younger cousin of mine died a few weeks ago, and a week later, grandma Beesly was rushed to the hospital, where she spent a week and a half. It was touch and go for a while. Scary stuff. Hence my lack of blogging.

Aaaaaaaaanywho. Let us not dwell on that. The headline promises funny.

So the day before my cousin’s funeral, Michael decides to offer comfort in an oh-so-Michael way.

After establishing how sorry he is and that he hopes everything goes OK at the funeral (a perfect and polite response from someone not close to the family), he decides he can’t leave it at that. He must follow-up with a heartfelt cherry on top — that perfect comment that will really linger in my heart and help me through these hard times.

“You know, Jan and I watch a TV drama with a subplot where a character died like that. And gosh, that’s just really hard,” Michael said forlornly.

This was one of those rare moments in life where my jaw literally dropped — not just in my head. I don’t know why I was surprised. Just a  few months earlier, Stanley had a funeral of a close friend, in which Michael stepped in with comforting words about one of Jan’s friend’s brothers (whom he’d never met) dying in the same way.

But at least that was a real person.

“Well that’s not exactly what happened, Michael,” I said and he shifted from one foot to the other. “It doesn’t really happen like it does on TV, you know.”

“Oh well I know,” he stammered (suuuuure you do). “But, well, I just hope everything goes well tomorrow.”

There. See that’s where you should have stopped the first time. Now how can we train you to stop there every time?

So, like The Office (duh) we got a new secretary not all that long ago.

She hasn’t quite learned how things work around here. i.e. She’s totally clueless as to how little work Michael actually does. She even calls him “Fearless leader.”

Today she had to be late because of an emergency that came up at home.

When she came in she had a few cookies wrapped for Michael.

“What is this? Bribery?! For being late?!” He said with a jovial laugh.

“No it’s just a thank you for being SO understanding,” Erin said in her sweet as sugar voice.

Oh thank god I hadn’t eaten my breakfast yet. My stomach churned simultaneously with my brain as I remembered all the times Michael came in late this month alone, for no reason whatsoever.

Oh dear Erin, you have SO much to learn.

Last night’s episodes? Discuss.

You were in Slumdog Millionaire? DON'T tell that guy over there.

You know someone is desperate to make conversation with you when they share with you the opinions of people you don’t know. Or tell you stories about things they haven’t done.

This was my life during Oscar season.

As I’ve mentioned before, Michael loves trying to start movie discussion with me. It never ends well because we just don’t have similar enough tastes.

Yet he insisted on asking me what of the Oscar movies I had seen and what I thought of them. 

At that time, I had only seen one of the main contenders: Slumdog Millionaire. Which I told him I really liked.

“Huh I’ll have to go check that out,” he said rattling off all the things he had to do that would prevent him from seeing it this weekend, and mulling over which theaters would actually be screening the film.

So after that weekend passed, he came over to give me a report.

“Well I didn’t get to see Slumdog Millionaire this weekend,” Michael announced.

“Um. OK.”

“But Jan’s sister did with her husband and they really liked it.”

Blank stare.

“Of course they didn’t like Mama Mia, which I loved, so I don’t know how much I trust their opinion.”

I shrugged. I had absolutely no idea what to say to this. Why on earth would I care one little teeny tiny bit about what JAN’S SISTER and JAN’S SISTER’S HUSBAND though about a movie I’ve already told him I liked.

Well maybe I’ll get to see it this weekend, he said relapsing into his list of all the things he may or may not have planned.

Is this what Michael considers a conversation?

So another weekend passes. And come Monday he reports to me again that he hasn’t seen it. 

And Friday he tells me they plan to see it that weekend. And THEN repeats the story about how Jan’s sister saw it and liked it (but he doesn’t know if he can trust her).

Wow you’re really going to milk that ONE conversation we had a month ago until it’s dead aren’t you, Michael.

So the next week comes and he hasn’t seen it again! Honestly Michael, I couldn’t care less whether you see this stupid movie or not. Did I say I liked it? Oh I meant I hated it with a burning passion. There will you leave me alone now?

But they did see one of the other Oscar movies, he tells me. And proceeds to tell me all about it, without prompting of course.

Finally, FINALLY, he sees Slumdog Millionaire. 

And the verdict?

“We enjoyed it,” he said.

That was it. No discussion about it. No questions about what I thought about certain scenes. No expounding on what he liked about it. I think he liked talking about NOT seeing it more than seeing it.

You’re a special guy, Michael Scott.

Today, class, let’s talk about music. Specifically music you listen to while you work. I’m looking for ideas to bulk up my own playlists. 

I have a playlist for concentrating, a motivational playlist for when I don’t feel like working. And a “Oh my gosh I am going to strangle my bosses” playlist.

This last one consists mostly of whiny white boys and features such classics as “Shut up” by Blink 182, “Shut up” by Simple Plan and “You’re not the boss of me now” by They Might be Giants.

So I’m curious to know what music you dear Dunderheads crank on your headphones or in the car when your boss (or whomever) has pushed you to the breaking point.

Michael was complaining to Meredith about an e-mail we received from corporate about someone (Michael) misusing the new program we have on our computers.

“Oh I just ignore those e-mails,” Meredith said.

You could practically see the light bulb glow above Michael’s head as what she said sunk in. “You do?!”

“Sure, all the time,” she said. What she didn’t say was that she has the ability to discern which e-mails are important and which are nit-picky unreasonable expectations. Michael … not so much.

Michael was walking on air as he came over to my desk to share his new revelation.

“As soon as I heard that,” Michael said, “I told myself ‘That’s it. From now on I’m ignoring all stressful e-mails.’”

“Michael if you ignore my e-mails, I’m going to come into your office and pummel you,” I said.

“Well you know, you ‘ll just have to dress it up with stuff about flowers or something,” he said.

“I’ll make all my subject lines ‘Rainbows and puppies’ from now on,” I said.

“I can put pictures of my dog in my e-mails,” Jim chimed in.

“Yeah! ”Rainbows and puppies and oh yeah I’m pissed at you.’ I like it!” Michael said, smiling all the way to his office.

The sad part. I really don’t think he’s joking.

P.S. LOVED Parks and Recreation and The Office last night. Thought both were the best so far this season! (Though, am I losing it, or did Parks and Rec already use the grafitti segment in one of the other episodes? whoopsies) Still laughed really hard through both episodes.

Michael (not so) stealthily places an annoyatron under Stanley's desk.

All week Michael and Andy were plotting how they were going to stick the annoyatron (thanks Chris!) to Stanley’s desk.

“What do you think he’ll do?” Michael asked excitedly.

“He’s going to be so mad,” Andy said.

They plotted what Andy would say if Stanley asked him what the noise was (he was going to pretend he couldn’t hear it), and imagined the triumph they would feel upon “getting” Stanley.

Meanwhile, back in reality, Karen had already told Stanley what had happened to her and that Michael was planning to do the same to him.

So when the random chirping began on April Fool’s Day, Stanley said nothing.

And neither did Michael or Andy — which of course was sign number one of their guilt. If they weren’t the source of an annoying noise, they would have been the first ones poking around investigating it.

When I returned from lunch, Andy and Michael were still gone on break … and so was the noise.

“So where is it?” I asked Stanley while searching around his desk area.

“Where is what,” he said dryly.

“The beeping thing,” I said.

“What beeping thing?” There was a tiny grin on his face.

“You found it!” I said.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. But whatever it is, it’s gone now.”

Grinning I returned to my desk.

The next day Michael came up to Stanley’s desk.

“So where is it?”

“Where is what,” Stanley said.

“The beeper,” Michael said.

“Oh that was yours?” Stanley asked innocently.

“Yeah I left a note on it.”

“Oh well I stepped on it,” Stanley said.

“Why’d you do that?”

“To get it to stop beeping.”

“But I wanted to use it on someone else!”

“Well you should have thought of that before you put it over here.”

Michael had a nervous smile on his face as he went back to his office.

Meanwhile Stanley stuck the annoyatron to a sheet of paper that said RIP and hung it at his desk. Michael returned about an hour later.

“No really what did you do with it,” he asked, convincing himself Stanley was playing a practical joke on him.

“It’s right there,” Stanley said pointing to the sign.

“Rest in Peace, hahaha,” Michael said as he took the toy back to his office.

He played with the gadget for a while, a sickly beeping coming from his office every now and then.

Michael returned to Stanley’s desk.

“What did you do to this thing!”

“I told you, I stomped on it. With my boot.”

“I didn’t think you were serious! This cost me $10! I was going to use it on someone else!”

“I TOLD you. You shouldn’t put something on my desk if you want ot get it back.”

This interaction continued throughout the day, culminating in Michael refusing to turn in some of Stanley’s paperwork to corporate.

“Nope, don’t have time. Already sent everyone else’s. You’ll have to do it yourself,” he said in a hurried panicky voice. I haven’t seen such a retaliatory spectacle since little Margret broke Timmy’s crayons in second grade.

Stanley shrugged. “Fine I’ll send it myself.”

Good ol’ Stanley. Always playing it cool and never giving Michael an ounce of satisfaction.