I’m back … again

So my Internet box got fried last week and just got back up and running. And because I can’t post while at Dunder Mifflin (duh), I had to take another involuntary hiatus.

To get us back into the action, I’ll leave you with this lovely quote from Steve Carell in Time magazine this month:

“I’m sure there are elements of Michael Scott that are a part of me. I would rather not know exactly what they are. One thing people often say is that if you don’t know a Michael Scott, then you are Michael Scott. Food for thought.”

So do you know a Michael Scott — or are you one? If you know one, feel free to share your stories over on my HR Department link. If you are one, take a zen self-discovery vacation or something.

Fare thee well until tomorrow.

Missed it by *that* much

I saw “Get Smart” this weekend. Michael of course knew that I saw “Get Smart” because he heard me talking to Jim about it on Friday.

So Monday morning Michael asks me how the movie was.

While slightly annoyed that he’s inquiring about something he only knows about because he was eavesdropping, at least I get to talk about a topic I’m slighlty interested in. So I give him my take on the movie.

He nods as I speak. “Yeah but the real question is, did Anne Hathaway look good?”

Ahh that’s why he asked me about the movie.

Ummm she was adorable, of course.

Would I say that to Michael? Never. I can’t even imagine the comments I’d have to endure.

No the real question is, why must you make every conversation so darn awkward, Michael?

Garden pizza

Phyllis was talking to Michael yesterday about her garden. Silly Phyllis thinks he’s interested in other people.

“Yeah I went and watered it during my lunch break and gosh it was hard to come back it was so nice out.”

“Mmhmmm,” Michael said looking at his computer screen. “Well I know where I’m going to have lunch next Wednesday.”

Probably thinking this was going to somehow relate back to the conversation at hand, Phyllis says, “Oh yeah?”

“Show your Scranton Fitness Center membership card and get a free pizza at Pizza by Alfredo Wednesday June 25,” Michael reads from his screen.

“Oh,” Phyllis says.

“About time I got something out of that membership,” Michael says with a cocky, cool tone.

“So you don’t work out?”

Michael stammers, “Oh, well, uhhh yeah, I work out.”

Yeah Michael, you can’t be the cool, funny slacker and the cool, serious buff guy at the same time.

Cold shoulder

I am always freezing in our office.

I have lower than normal blood pressure, which naturally lends to me getting cold. Plus I work with a lot of middle aged men who are controlling the thermostat who have higher than normal blood pressure.

But I don’t complain. I’m clearly the minority in my discomfort, so I don’t make a fuss or change the temperature. I just have a little throw blanket I keep at my desk for my lap or shoulders.

But though I don’t try to draw attention to myself over the issue, Michael can’t make it that easy.

Every time he walks out of his office and sees me with my blanket, I hear one of the following comments, (very loudly so the whole office stares):

“Are you COLD?!!?”

“You know, it’s like 73 degrees in here! That’s what the thermostat says! And you’re still cold, huh?”

“Hey why don’t you close the air vent above you? Oh it IS closed??! And you’re STILL cold?!?!?? WOW!”

“Hey Pam’s cold. Do you think it’s cold in here? Yeah me neither. But she’s always cold!”

“Hey will someone get this girl a PARKA!”

Sometimes I try to explain my position to him, hoping it would help him to understand and stop making scenes over it. I have low blood pressure, I say. I’m wearing summer dresses while he’s wearing suits. My air vent won’t close all the way. His office is much warmer than the rest of the office.

Nothing worked. And this week I snapped.

“Oh there she is with her blanket again.”

“Will you leave me ALONE!” I say, matching the volume of his comment.

He freezes and stares at me wide-eyed.

“Yes I’m cold,” I say. “I don’t make a big deal out of it. I don’t ask anyone to change the temperature. I just put a little blanket over my lap and keep my mouth shut and you always have to make a scene over it.”

“Ok,” he says, with his tail between his legs. “So you’re really cold, huh? You poor thing.” and he scurries off into his office.

About 20 minutes pass. Jim walks over.

“So, hey, are you COLD?!”

Shut up Jim.

Back from vacation

Oh no! I have to go back to work?!

Hey! Pam, here. I took a little vacation from Dunder Mifflin, but now I’m back with more stories to share.

Here’s one now!

I love having an intern.

Though he doesn’t actually answer to me or do any work for me, he lightens my load in a way I never anticipated.

Normally when Michael comes out of his office and starts talking to no one in particular (“Well I’M never taking another free cruise again!”), I am the one sitting closest to him. Everyone else is far enough away that they can pretend they didn’t hear him or pretend they thought he was talking to someone else — buying them enough time to get on an “important phone call.”

Me? There’s no pretending. Even if I’m on a call, unless he can get someone else’s attention, he’ll wait for me to get off the phone. And then reboot his story.

But our intern has a desk set up close to Michael’s office as well. When Michael comes out of his office with some vague announcement, I avert my eyes, try to look busy and pray.

The intern, however, turns away from his work and makes eye contact. Eye contact! I used to do that … for a few months. Until I realized that if people showed interest in Michael’s stories, no one would ever get any work done because he’d be talking to us all day — and never about anything that any of us were interested in. If you even try to interject with something about yourself, the subject will quickly get related back to a boring story about Michael.

And while I can still hear Michael’s story, I am spared from having to look interested in every tiny detail of his trip with Jan.

And after the intern learns this lesson in a few months, he gets to leave and go back to school.

I hope this summer lasts forever.

Collecting interest

Michael has this way of forcing you to start a conversation with him. He crafts his openers in such a way that you are forced to appear engaged and interested in what he is saying, no matter how much you don’t care.

For example:
“Boy I’m glad we bought box seats for tonight!” he will say. He has yet to tell me what he bought box seats for or why he’s glad, so now I am forced to respond with “Why?” or “What did you buy tickets for?” I don’t care, but things get very awkward if I don’t say anything.

Some other examples:
— “Well I’m certainly not eating Chinese food again for a while!”

— “So I’ve decided that every man needs to take his girlfriend to see ‘Blood Diamond’ ”

— “Well I won best boyfriend award this weekend.”

And my favorite:
— “So the game was really nice last night,” Michael prods.

“Oh well good,” I say vaguely, not looking up from my screen.

“We got rained out,” Michael says with a smug, bemusedness. I see in his face undertones of Biff from “Back to the Future” pounding on my head saying “Hello! McPam!”

“Oh, well, bad then I guess,” I say. Oh yes, I forgot it had rained the night before. He’s usually not sarcastic, so my auto response backfired on me. Dang it.

But he was unphased as he unfolded the story about the rain delay and ultimate cancellation of the game, the couple he and Jan met, the free tickets they scored from them, what they ate for lunch, when they were going to another game, how much parking cost, how bad the peanuts were.

God I wish I had the Delorean right now.

Guest blog: Angela vs. Dunder Mifflin Infinity

Ryan just launched his new Dunder Mifflin Infinity Web site. I wish someone had run it by the finance department. It’s creating errors in the billing and order placements, and then the sales people are coming to me when their clients are getting billed improperly.

I hate being blamed for others’ incompetencies.

Andy sent me an e-mail with one such issue. He said a client who ordered 100 boxes of paper got billed for 500. I told him the Web site was causing a monetary nightmare and a trained monkey could have done a better job putting it together.

It’s a sin to lie, after all.

The issue was quickly resolved after the client threatened to pull their whole paper order. But this was after many ridiculous e-mails between Andy, myself, Ryan and the customer.

I was compiling my detailed complaint to send to corporate about Ryan’s site and the fiasco it caused when Michael called me into his office.

He just got a call from Ryan with a complaint about me. About me!?!

Apparently Andy accidentally attached my e-mail to a message he sent the client … the one about the trained monkey.

I pointed out that it wasn’t my fault that Andy forwarded the e-mail and it certainly wasn’t my fault that the Web site was such an abomination.

Michael told me I needed a more positive attitude.

The debate quickly spiraled to me vs. Ryan. If I filed my complaint against Ryan, Michael was going to file a complaint against me.

And while I offered an effective and orderly work environment, Ryan offered the possibility of friendship to Michael. Clearly my fight was lost.

So now instead of filing my complaint with corporate, I am being tasked with organizing a positive reinforcement, team building afternoon.

I think I’ll decorate with rainbows and butterflies.

Good to the last drop

Michael likes to be really dramatic when he takes a drink.
Often throughout the day, you can hear him sipping his tea, followed by a giant “AHHHHHHHHHHHH” sound.
It sounds like a Sprite commercial around here sometimes.

The ex factor

I have a favorite grocery store I always hit on my way home. It’s quick. It has everything I need. And it is right on the way from work.
Recently, Roy moved into an apartment near my favorite grocery store. We have been amicable since we broke off our engagement, but talking to him can still be awkward. I usually avoid going down to the warehouse section of the building to prevent uncomfortable small talk.
But now it seems I can’t get away from him. We leave work at the same time, we drive the same way home (he is a horribe driver, and I hate getting stuck behind him), and now he’s invaded my beloved grocery store.
One particularly weird encounter happened a couple months ago. I get in line, and soon after someone gets behind me and says hello.
I turn and see Roy standing there with his arms full of purple and pink … flowers, fruit, dessert, you name it.
I say in my airiest voice possible, “Big plans, I see.”
It’s his anniversary with his new girlfriend.
Fantastic. I don’t really care. I’m head-over-heels for my husband. But who wants to hear about their ex’s romantic plans?
I need to find a new grocery store.

Weekend plans

Friday, Jim and I were chatting about weekend plans, a typical end of the week activity of ours. The topic shifted to summer movies. We have very similar taste in films, so we often compare notes on which ones we liked and which ones we are most excited about.
We generally don’t include others in these conversations because most of our co-workers don’t share the same movie interests. We’re not trying to be rude, we just know other people don’t care.
As I was walking out the door for my lunch break, Michael intercepts me.
“So any good movie recommendations for me to see this weekend?”
Michael is a prime example of one of the co-workers who doesn’t like the same movies I like. He’s always uninterested in the films I suggest and tries to get me to talk about movies I don’t care to see.
“Aren’t you seeing Sex and the City?” I ask. He had told me as much three times already.
“No, actually we won’t have time to see a movie this weekend. We’ll be too busy planning Jan’s parents anniversary party. So we’ll see that next weekend.”
“Ah so you don’t need a recommendation after all.” I say. Michael stammers a bit before I tell him I have to meet someone for lunch.